


Adventures in Not Dying

by theicesculpture



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Allusions to Alcoholism, Allusions to PTSD, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bittersweet, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Coming back from the dead, Complicated Relationships, Diving, Don’t copy to another site, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Horror Elements, Iceland, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Ocean, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), References to Norse Religion & Lore, Road Trips, Sea, Sea Monsters, Underwater, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, caving, references to Icelandic lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 75,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theicesculpture/pseuds/theicesculpture
Summary: (An Icelandic/underwater road trip)Loki is too busy dealing with not being dead anymore to protest enough when Thor decides the best way to deal with their problems on a post-Thanos Earth is to begin by creating more problems. There have been stories of something monstrous sighted near an Icelandic lake, something long and serpentine, and Thor wants to investigate.
Relationships: Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 265
Kudos: 222
Collections: Marvel Trumps Hate 2019





	1. Oudenophobia: The Fear of Nothingness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuroraWest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraWest/gifts).



> This work is a gift for AuroraWest and without them this fic probably would’ve just remained the seed of an idea.
> 
> Bit of a long note, but here are a few things probably worth knowing about this fic:
> 
> 1\. This fic is set after an AU version of Endgame, where everything happened similarly but also differently. For one thing, Loki came back through one the portals during the battle. And for another, Thor doesn't have Mjolnir or Stormbreaker and he returned to New Asgard with Loki instead of taking off with the Guardians  
> 2\. Loki can't shapeshift/teleport in this fic, he just might have liked to create the illusion of being able to do so in the past  
> 3\. I was really looking forward to putting to use my knowledge of sea life I acquired from watching too many documentaries, playing too much Endless Ocean, and various aquarium visits. Then I realised Loki and Thor would have no way of knowing all that info so I had to tone it down a bit  
> 4\. The length of this entire fic was supposed to be a minimum of 20K-30K words but might end up being a bit longer. I’m aiming for weekly updates (might end up being every two weeks depending on my schedule)  
> 5\. I’ve never been to Iceland so all the info I have on it is from my own research and may be flawed. Almost all the Icelandic locations featured in this fic are based on real places but bear in mind there’ll be some tweaking here and there for the sake of story convenience. Almost all of the info on scuba diving is based on my own research since my experience with it is really limited  
> 6\. I was thinking how great it’d be to have a fantasy map of Iceland marking the locations Loki and Thor visit so readers could have a visual to refer to. The bad news is that I don’t have the patience for map drawing but the good news is that someone else did it before me. This map isn’t specific to my fic or anything but most of the locations I used are on there. The artist is Sam Fisher and the link is [here](http://i.imgur.com/5nQSQEQ.png)  
> Other than that, I hope you enjoy the fic and I always love hearing back from readers who like the story.

Underneath Loki’s skin, his pulse still beats.

His thumb presses into the place on his wrist between tendon and bone and he keeps a measure of it, the rhythm of the pulses. For every beat that passes, his heart is another beat closer to its last. Every squeeze of muscle is another one it will never be able to take back. The thought makes his pulse stutter before it quickens, getting faster and faster until Loki’s thumb presses harder as he wills it to slow. 

His pulse does not slow. It never does, not when he wills it to, not when he’s so utterly aware of its precise tempo, not when the thudding gets louder and louder until it’s all he can hear, all he can focus on.

No matter the cost, it means he’s still alive.

Doesn’t it?

"Loki," Thor says from the chair across the room.

Loki looks up and waits for Thor to continue. He doesn’t. 

"What?" Loki is forced to ask.

“Are you...” Thor trails off.

 _Alright?_ Loki thinks he might ask. _Still here? Are you even alive?_

"Yes, do spit it out, Thor." The words are said with more venom than originally intended but the damage has already been done.

Thor hesitates, deliberating his next words as he places his drink on the floor. "Are you settled?"

 _Settled?_ What exactly constitutes as settled? Loki has a place in which he can sleep and eat, and he knows his way around New Asgard well enough by now. Is that what's supposed to be meant by settled? Somehow, he doubts it. 

“Well enough,” Loki replies. 

Thor grants him a nod. His gaze keeps flickering between Loki and the television, fingertips tapping the rim of his mug even though he’s put it down. It’s another change that’s occurred, the constant presence of alcohol. That and the television. The former habit aside, Loki despises the constant assault of noise but Thor appears to have developed the habit of not leaving it alone for more than a few hours. He also seems to apply the same principle to Loki. 

Loki can't make his way to the farmer's market without Thor trailing behind him. He can't go for a walk without Thor claiming he could do with some fresh air and inviting himself along. 

It isn't Thor's presence that's the difficult part: the difficult part is in the sideways glances, in the way Thor frequently seems to be at the brink of asking him something and then keeps not voicing it, how Thor seems repulsed at the idea of touching him.

Thor never used to be _that_ opposed to it, not even when they were fighting. 

But what they’re doing can't be described as fighting, though neither can it be described as getting along. Things are... civil. Frustratingly civil. It provides an underlying tension Loki can barely withstand, and it makes him wonder how Thor can tolerate it.

Sometimes, Loki wishes Thor would just be out with it to spare him the wait. Other times, Loki isn't so certain he wants to know, not if it's making someone like Thor hesitate. 

Thor presses the button on the remote to make the television quieter. It means he's going to say something, Loki’s accustomed enough to this routine by now, but more than that – it means Thor thinks this conversation is going to be a lengthy one.

“I know this place isn't like home.” Thor's lips press together after the last word. 

_Neither was Asgard_ , Loki thinks but Asgard both was and wasn’t and it doesn’t matter anymore trying to deduce which because it’s gone.

It’s been gone for five years. Five years in which the Asgardian survivors rebuilt themselves and their homes. Five years in which they learned to adapt to life without Asgard. Five years in which Thor spent without Loki there to torment him. Loki should have seen it coming the moment Odin died: Asgard would not be far behind him.

But Thor's still waiting for an answer. What was it he'd said? Loki keeps finding this is a recurring pattern, these stray thoughts distracting him more and more frequently as of late. Ah yes, now he remembers: it was something about New Asgard not being like home.

“Isn't it?” Loki asks, but the intonation is flat.

“Not yet,” Thor says. He lifts his drink and takes a mouthful. “It might take a while but over time we could...'' He pauses. Loki fully expects him to finish the sentence with _make it our home_ but instead the word Thor once again decides upon is, “Settle.”

If settling is the best that Thor, disparagingly optimistic Thor – or so he _used_ to be, anyway – thinks they can hope for then they must be more doomed than Loki originally thought. 

“This place is hardly ideal.”

Thor frowns. “We have housing here that was given to us. _Generously_ given to us. New Asgard has been able to establish its own trade, first within our own community and then outside it. The landscape isn’t all that dissimilar to what Asgard’s was like outside of the city walls, and the people here have been incredibly welcoming, more than we could have asked for.”

“To you, perhaps.”

Thor looks like he's holding in a sigh. “Can you blame them?”

“This isn't a matter of _blame_.” 

“Then what is it a matter of?”

Loki falters. His mouth opens but he can't think of any words he can live with having said if Thor hears.

“I know,” Loki says, more controlled and quieter than before, “that you want this place to be New Asgard. But I... I’m not sure I want there to _be_ a New Asgard. And if I did, I certainly wouldn't want it _here_.”

The drink is once again in Thor’s lap. “Why wouldn't you want there to be a New Asgard?”

And there it is, even after Loki's calculated wording, the request for him to elaborate on something he has no inclination to. 

“Asgard is gone. Midgard just happened to accept our refugees. Having the word ‘new’ as a precursor to whichever word happens to be in front of it doesn’t make it a reformation of the old one.”

Thor's eyes are on him and there's a scrutiny in them that Loki isn't used to seeing in there, or, at least, he wasn't until recently. 

_Asgard is a people_ , Loki expects Thor to say. He says it so often the words ring hollow. 

“What would you suggest then?” Thor asks.

“I don't know. I'd recommend asking somebody else _– anybody_ else."

Thor's mouth sets in the same way it does whenever he feels the need to remind him of the fact that–

"You saved Asgard, Loki." Thor leans forward in a way Loki can only assume he's supposed to find imploring. "Don't forget that."

“You'll also find that I was the one to destroy it.”

Just like the Midgardian stories said. Loki, the bringer of doom. Loki, the bringer of Ragnarok. Loki, the one whose fault it would be when Asgard no longer existed and there were no longer any Asgardians who called themselves gods.

"Sometimes you have to destroy things in order to save them."

Loki unleashes a laugh, a short and sharp one that makes Thor go rigid in his chair. “Careful, Thor," he warns. "Some might mistake your words for wisdom.”

“And,” Thor says, louder now, as if that'll make his point less refutable, “if it wasn't for the ship you brought, none of us would’ve been able to escape.”

The ship Loki brought. The Grandmaster's ship he stole, Thor means. The ship Thor doesn't like to ask too many questions about.

But Thor stopped asking questions a long time ago. Sometimes Loki wonders exactly what it’d take to get Thor in enough of a state to roar at him, to shake him so hard it makes his teeth clash and leaves his vision unhinged, to get the fierce intensity he used to get when filled with the conviction that there was something to fight for.

The ale makes Thor mellow, but Loki suspects he’d still be mellow without it.

At least it's more convenient without the questions. Sometimes he needs to remind himself of that. Even if... Even if it means this Thor, the Thor sat in front of him, feels closer to a stranger than the brother of his memories.

"The ship I brought makes the _Asgardian_ population slightly less inclined to despise me, not the _Midgardian_ population.”

“Don't underestimate their memory.”

Loki laughs again. “Oh, their memory might be part of the problem.”

“After,” Thor says pointedly. “The Midgardians still remember what you did _after_ you came back.”

 _After you came back_. It's Thor's way of putting it. After Thanos choked the life out of him. After Thor watched him die. After Loki found himself being nothing at all until he fell through a portal and stepped out into the middle of a battlefield. But if Thor prefers to think of it as if Loki had merely disappeared for five years then he isn't going to force him to think otherwise. 

"How odd," Loki says. "I can barely remember it myself.”

The look Thor gives him is too half-hearted to be a long-suffering one.

It's lazy. Thor was many things but he was never lazy. 

Loki doesn't know what to do with this lethargic Thor, with the Thor who has lost his parents and closest friends and who keeps looking at him, staring at him like he’s a stranger he’s expecting to leave at any moment. 

Maybe Loki will. Where, he doesn’t know, but he has few reasons to stay here other than convenience. 

Maybe Midgard is a good a realm as any when there are so few realms he hasn't made enemies of. He still remembers where the places are, where the veils between realms are so thin he can just slip through them. He never found all of them but he found enough that he could weave paths between most of the Nine Realms if he ever needed to, which would be a preferable option to attempting to persuade Heimdall to let him use the Bifrost. 

The prospect of quietly slipping away is becoming more and more appealing. 

At least if he does it Thor won't have to watch him die again.

 _Tomorrow_ , he keeps telling himself, _I'll do it tomorrow_. But tomorrow comes and goes and he finds himself sitting in the same tired house with the same tired furnishings and the same tired Thor.

Thor looks better when he doesn't have to talk to Loki; missing that is unavoidable. There's something more sincere about Thor's smile when they leave their shared solitary confinement and Thor can interact with people whose names aren’t Loki. Valkyrie can make him laugh and Thor's new friends are far better distractions than Loki ever was, occupying him with idle chatter and games of a playful nature rather than treachery and destruction. 

Thor will be better off when Loki leaves. Thor can count it as one last betrayal and that'll be the end of it. They'll never have to see each other again. The space Loki occupies can be replaced with people capable of making Thor look like himself again, with people who are more than just Thor's last remaining link to the original Asgard. 

Some link. He isn't even Asgardian.

Thor points the remote at the television and the volume returns to normal. 

* * *

Loki doesn't pay much attention to what the television is showing them, not usually anyway. He spends most of his time indoors staring into various open books without any of the words sinking in, which seems, for reasons he can’t explain, like a more sensible way to fritter away time. 

When he’s not monitoring his pulse, he’s occupied by the way his lungs operate, the way they inflate and deflate at every inhale and exhale. The air here is stale but the air outside is so fresh it feels like breathing in shards of glass. No – it feels like his lungs are _made_ of glass and if he breathes in too much they might shatter. 

The functions of his own body are a distraction in a way they have never been before. Loki once spent an entire afternoon staring at his own hand, overcome with how surreal it was that all he had to do was think the command for his fingers to move and they did so, all those tendons and muscle and bone obeying each thought before he even had to conceptualise them. How was it that he could decide to move his body however he wanted and yet what he’d wanted the most, what he’d _needed_ the most, was for his heart to continue beating and his throat to open and yet he had no control over himself when it truly mattered?

How inconvenient it is for neither life nor death to truly want him.

At least Thor _tries_ to want him around. Sometimes Thor attempts to persuade him to accompany him on visits to see Valkyrie and the other companions he met on Sakaar, but he gives up without much fight. 

He usually asks Loki once. Loki shakes his head. He learned this lesson long ago: Thor's friends aren't his friends. Friendship does not work in the same way that blood does, although that never worked in the way he thought it would either.

Loki's thoughts are interrupted by the slamming of the front door. 

The footsteps sound faster than he’s used to.

 _Not Thor_ , he has time to think before the perpetrator makes themself known. 

"Alright, Lackey?" 

Valkyrie.

Loki let the daggers he's summoned slip back into his pocket dimension. Valkyrie watches as he does so, one corner of her mouth hitching in what might be amusement.

"Thor isn't here," Loki says.

"I can see that." She still looks strange to him without a bottle in hand. “If Thor’s not here, he's at Korg's." She makes her way to Thor’s chair before throwing herself into it side-on, her legs thrust over one of the arms. "He won't mind," she says when she catches Loki frowning.

"No," Loki says after a moment, forcing himself to sit a little less stiffly, or, at least, less visibly so. "I suppose he won't."

He waits for her to leave but she remains slouched there, as relaxed as she would be if it was her own home. It suits her more than it does Loki – and what a petty thing to be envious of that is – but he can’t discern if this house in particular suits her better or homelessness in general.

It's tempting to return to his pretence of reading the book in his hands. He doesn't even know what it's called, let alone what it's about. But this is the first time he's been alone in a room with someone who isn't Thor in... He doesn't know how long it’s been. Since Sakaar, he realises. Since they fought. 

"Thor may not be back for some time," Loki offers and all she does is shrugs. 

There. He's being polite. He's sparing her the unnecessary wait. He could classify this as being considerate if it wasn't for the ulterior motive of no longer being trapped in a situation that borders on uncomfortable. People come to visit Thor. Not him.

He expects the Midgardians to object to him residing here eventually, but he’s only been here a matter of weeks and they’ve been preoccupied with their own dead or dearly departed returning. When they’ve recovered enough to bother doing something about the problem that is Loki, the protests will begin. Perhaps even with Thor defending him for a lack of anything else to put himself to use with or out of some sort of misplaced obligation. 

Loki plans to leave before he finds out which.

Valkyrie doesn't look like she's here to confront him though. She finds the remote hidden down the crack in the chair and starts flicking through the news channels.

Good. Loki can divert his attention without it being rude. It's a relief. He hears stories of families reuniting and pets returning and the messages from those still searching for the ones they've lost. There are far _far_ too many of them in amongst the billions of Midgardians with the exact same problem and the ones that make it on the news must have paid for it dearly. 

Loki stares at the pages but the words are nothing more than ink on pieces of paper.

Maybe when Thor returns he'll proclaim it's some form of improvement that someone’s voluntarily spending time with him. It would be just like Thor to assume two people allowing themselves to be in the same room together is enough to constitute as friendship.

He still doesn’t know why Valkyrie is here but what little time he’s spent around her is enough to safely assume if there’s something she wants to say, she won’t skirt around it.

"Lost another kid, did you?"

Loki looks up over the top of his book. "Pardon?”

“So it wasn’t a memorable trip to Iceland then.” Valkyrie nods to the screen. "Big long sea serpent thing. That's supposed to be one of yours, isn't it?"

One of his? Loki lowers his book. The footage they’re showing is shaky, amateurish, clearly captured by some Midgardian who just happened to be passing by. The water is a dark grey but there is no tide. A lake, then. The banks are just about visible on either side, but that’s not the focus of the camera. Because on top of the lake, in between the floating sheets of ice, there’s something moving. Its form is twisted, snaking underneath the surface of the water, and it’s too long to be captured in a single image. Then part of it emerges from the water, a glimpse of something white glistening like scales as it propels itself further forward, moving at such a speed the voice behind the camera lets out a startled shout and the footage ends. 

Loki loses any faint modicum of interest when the screen is replaced with Midgardians narrating their excitement.

"Believe it or not," Loki says, "I have had no hand in this."

“Just like you had no hand with Sleipnir?”

“I found and raised him, it’s hardly my fault if the foal began to regard me with some sort of affection, it’s not as if that’s the same as what’s been more than implied with–”

“So you know what they’re calling the creature, then?”

“Based on what you’ve said, I believe I could take an accurate guess.”

“I take it you _have_ heard what the Midgardians say about you.”

“Sometimes it’s difficult to avoid rumours that have existed for over a millennia.”

“Mm.” She reaches for a cushion before nestling it behind her head. “Go on, then.”

“Go on what?”

“I want to hear what you think.”

Loki squints at her. 

“Really,” she tries to assure him. “I need a break from either beating the shit out of people at video games or talking about how much I’m gonna beat the shit out of them.” She pauses. “I thought hanging around with Asgard’s king so much would, I don’t know, make me more responsible for other people or something. But,” she says with a shrug, “it doesn’t. So either I find new ways of entertaining myself or I start drinking again.” Her eyes settle on him. “So start talking.”

“Well…” Loki starts. It’s disconcerting to be the prime subject of such attention. “Assuming the thing in the footage _is_ a creature, it’s hardly deserving of the name they’re giving it. It can’t be of a large enough size to encapsulate the entire realm if it fits inside of a singular lake.”

She leans further back. “Maybe it’s not fully grown yet.”

“It seems more likely that there are ulterior motives for the pretence of its existence.”

She raises an eyebrow after hearing that one. “I’ve not been here for long but I’ve lived here longer than you. If someone is after attention, they’ve chosen a really bad time to get it.”

“And yet wherever the creature is will still profit from those intrigued by it.”

“Iceland,” Valkyrie says and Loki blinks at her. “That lake’s in Iceland. What? I’ve lived here for how long? You start picking up stuff when you’re in one place too long and not drinking.”

 _Though Thor still seems to have managed_ , Loki thinks. He doesn't utter the thought out loud though, just gives a curt nod and replies, “So it would seem.”

The front door slams closed. The footsteps are heavy but hurried; they can’t be Thor’s because his are slower and quieter these days and Loki casts an eye to Valkyrie in case this is her doing.

She remains exactly where she is.

“I need your help,” a voice says from the door.

It turns out Loki’s initial assumption was wrong. It’s Thor. 

_Thor_. 

Thor is walking into the room and though he doesn’t do it with the same confidence he might’ve done in the years gone past, there’s something in his eyes, like kindling that might catch fire. 

If Thor’s surprised by Valkyrie’s presence, he doesn’t show any signs of it. He addresses them both: “I need to find passage to Iceland.”

“You can’t possibly be serious,” Loki gets out. 

But Thor does not falter. “There’s not much time to explain." And then, as if they don’t already know, Thor adds, “It’s Jörmungandr.”

* * *

"You," Loki says later that evening when they're alone, "are being ridiculous.”

"Why?" Thor asks. "I'm supposed to be one of the people defending Earth, so why should I not?'"

"The creature has nothing to do with us and you know it."

"The humans call it Jörmungandr," Thor states. "Its origins come from the stories and legends they tell of us so I think it _does_ have something to do with us."

"How strange. I don't recall either of us ever having encountered an overgrown sea serpent before. You would have thought that sort of thing would stick in your memory, wouldn't you?"

"Just because it isn't in our past doesn't mean it's not supposed to be in our future."

"If it's _supposed_ to be in our future then we needn't seek it out.”

"There were stories of Hela before we knew she existed. And all the other stories I've heard have some grain of truth to them." Thor realises what he's said and hastily adds, "Though sometimes they get misinterpreted or altered."

"For what it's worth, I am positively certain I haven't given birth to a sea snake. Or," Loki continues, "that I am about to any time soon."

"Even if you aren't in some way involved with the creature's appearance, the creature is still Norse, it's me it's supposed to fight."

 _No,_ Loki can’t help but think. _It’s you it’s supposed to_ **_kill_**.

"The creature is called Jörmungandr because the humans named it that. Has it not occurred to you why they called it that?" Loki leans back. "It’s because Jörmungandr is the most infamous story with the barest trace of a link to the creature. Of course it makes sense they name an entirely hypothetical serpent after it."

"You don't... You don't think it's real?"

"There are hundreds and hundreds of possibilities and the creature being genuine is the least likely of any of them."

Thor's shoulders deflate.

"And the creature being genuinely Nordic," Loki continues, "is even less likely than it being a genuine creature at all."

"But we saw it."

"No," Loki corrects. "We saw supposed footage of it."

“But why would anyone bother faking it?”

"Entertainment. Attention. To attract other humans to visit that region. The reasons are numerous."

“I meant why bother faking it _now?_ Everyone’s so preoccupied with half the population reappearing that they’re not going to care about a sea creature that might or might not exist.”

Loki tries not to let the strangeness of both Valkyrie and Thor offering the same insight deter him. “Perhaps they’re banking on people being desperate to hear about something else. And it would be unwise to not consider the possibility of the sighting being a genuine misighting.”

"What about all the people who disappeared by that lake?"

"Wherever there are people, there are people who disappear. It's hardly surprising that some of the people who visited there remain lost."

"You think this is all a coincidence?"

"I wouldn't rule out the possibility."

"If we were still on Asgard, there was a time when you would have insisted on sending scouts out to ensure the safety of the realm.'"

"We're _not_ on Asgard." The volume of his own voice startles him. Loki waits one second, then two, until the whiplash of his words begins to settle. "We are not responsible for the safety of those who call this realm home."

"Not in writing, no. But I... I joined the Avengers to keep this realm safe."

"Your Avengers tore this world apart far more than I ever did and they have more Midgardian blood on their hands than I ever will. Tell me: where were they when Asgard was in danger? Alliances are not only one-sided. Do you even know where your friends are? Scattered across the world or stranded or worse."

Thor's eyes meet his. There's a sharp focus in them that wasn't there before. "Then this world needs my help more than ever."

Loki almost laughs. "And you think yourself their saviour, do you?"

"What else would you have me do? Sit back and do nothing while innocent people die?"

"These people never _chose_ you. You are foreign to them, you aren't even the same species. It makes no difference how much you pretend to be like them, how much you attempt to emulate their tastes in entertainment or cultural quirks, they never asked you to do that."

"So you're saying I should let people die because they didn't contact me."

"What I'm saying," Loki says and his voice is steadily growing louder and louder again, "is that you're as painfully transparent as you always were. You're assigning yourself a quest because you think by somehow completing it, you'll be rewarded with something greater than this." Loki throws his hands to the walls that surround them. "You think the Midgardians will accept you if you do this one thing for them, that this place will finally start feeling like home, but it won't Thor, no matter how desperately you try, this place will _never_ feel like home."

Loki's panting by the time he's done and Thor does nothing but stare at him.

"Then I'm still going to help them," Thor says. "With or without you." And there's something so final and resolute about the way he says it that Loki can't offer a single word of protest. It’s also because of the finality of it that Loki’s taken aback when Thor asks, “Are you coming?”


	2. Autophobia: The Fear of Loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Loki and Thor find their living situation... difficult. They learn of a supposed sighting of Jörmungandr and Thor is keen to peruse it. Loki is not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sponsored by the whale museum, I promise.

* * *

It's at times like this when it becomes distinctly obvious to Loki how much Thor misses Mjolnir. Since their time onboard the Statesman – five years, it's been _five years_ for Thor – Thor's past the days when he reached on reflex for Mjolnir only to summon its absence, but there are moments when Loki viciously enjoys watching him enduring the tedium that comes with the disadvantages of not owning an enchanted flying hammer.

This moment is not one of them. 

They've boarded the aeroplane. Thor insists upon it, upon living like Midgardians if they're going to share the same realm as them despite how much simpler and easier it would be to ask Heimdall to summon the Bifrost. But, alas, Thor _has_ to play at nobility. 

"I still think your plan is ridiculous," Loki mutters.

"There's nothing ridiculous about my–"

"The entire _premise_ of it is ridiculous, Thor."

"I don't understand why you have such a problem with it."

"Because it's nothing short of sheer idiocy."

"Then why did you volunteer to come with me?"

Loki falters for a brief moment.

The legend.

Jörmungandr.

The venom that’s supposed to lurk inside its mouth. The venom that’s supposed to kill Thor in nine steps.

If Jörmungandr even exists, that is. And if it even _is_ the thing they saw they saw in the footage.

"Because," Loki says, "someone needs to be around to point it out to you when your foolishness outweighs any semblance of rationality you might possess."

* * *

The flight is uneventful. They get a number of looks, especially when they're trying to get through the security customs. Thor has some sort of identification document that was issued with their house, something to state who he is and his status as a refugee. Loki doesn't have any such document. The idea of any authority managing to create and distribute enough identification for the billions of people spawning back into existence within the span of a number of weeks is laughable. 

Loki is only allowed to pass the barrier on account of the virtue of being associated with Thor. They don't seem to recognise him, not without his horned helm, and when Thor's arguing his case he almost tells them that Loki's his brother before he cuts his words short.

And little wonder.

_You truly are the worst, brother._

Had it not been transparent enough what his intentions were? Had Thor been attempting to comply with his act or did he sincerely believe it had been yet another betrayal on Loki's part?

Thor's last words haunt him in ways Thanos's hand around his throat does not.

At least with Thanos's hands, Loki had an answer: death. But Thor's last words to him only raise more questions, questions it might be best he remains ignorant of the answers to.

* * *

Six hours. Six hours it took. All the Bifrost needs is a matter of seconds and the comparison makes the Midgardian methods of transport so woefully inadequate that it makes Loki eye the airport behind them with all its endless queues and pedantic customs with a mixture of pity and disdain. 

But they're out now.

It doesn’t look startlingly different to Norway, only here they’re in a city rather than a town.

Thor glances around before walking with confidence towards the road.

Loki remains at a slight distance. “Without meaning to undermine you, do you actually know where you're going?"

"I," Thor says with something that sounds vaguely like pride, "arranged a taxi for us."

"A taxi," Loki repeats flatly.

Thor looks puzzled. "How else do you expect us to travel while we’re here? The distances will be too far to walk."

"And where will it be taking us?"

"To somewhere we can loan equipment from. And afterwards, to our accommodation." Thor looks oddly close to being pleased his success; it would be infuriating if not for how long it’s been since Loki's last seen it. "I booked it before we left."

"And how exactly are you intending to pay for all of this?" It’s something Loki’s asked before, but the answers he received were nondescript.

"All Asgardian refugees are entitled to certain benefits. I... happened to have a small amount leftover."

"Not thousands and thousands, surely?"

Thor shrugs. "Enough to get us here and pay for lodgings for a few nights."

"And after?"

"Someone will decide to fund us by then."

Loki has to hurry to catch up with Thor’s strides. "I hope you haven't brought us here on nothing but baseless theories. If you've squandered everything you've saved over the last five years over nothing but rumours–"

"They're not just rumours." Thor shakes his head. "My instinct says they’re not and my instinct has served me well in the past.” He tries to smile. “Someone will be paying us for this any day now."

"You seem awfully sure of that."

"I am."

"I see. And what exactly..."

"I've spoken to experts on the matter."

"Experts on the matter of conning people into funding a chase for a fictional beast?"

"Experts on the matter of getting funding to pursue science."

"Science," Loki echoes. "Forgive me if I fail to qualify this as science." And then– Ah. "You've been conferring with..."

"Jane," Thor supplies. His mouth twitches with amusement. "I know you haven't forgotten her name."

"I was being tactful."

"About what? It's been seven years, Loki."

Seven years since their relationship was severed. Of course. Not just a matter of months.

"Did she tell you how many more important causes have greater need of funding than yours?"

"She was... pleased to hear of me putting myself to good use."

Loki doesn’t bother masking his incredulousness. "She thinks this is good use?" 

Thor glowers, but only slightly. "Midgardians say they know more about space than they do about their oceans."

"And Jane? I thought she studied the stars, not the seas."

"She does." Thor shifts. "She just happens to have some contacts she said she'd try to get in touch with."

"She said she'd try? Not that she _will_ , but that she'll _try?"_

"That's right."

"You don't appear to be seeing the problem here."

"Why are you so determined to assume the worst?"

"Believe me, I would much prefer it if it was a choice to be this pessimistic."

* * *

Much to Loki’s surprise, it turns out Thor actually does know where they’re going. Or, at least, if he doesn’t know where they’re going then he makes a convincing show of knowing how to get there. 

It’s not far. They sit in silence for the entirety of the journey.

There’s a part of him that’s surprised Thor doesn’t spend the twenty minutes conversing with their driver, but maybe one of these days he’ll stop being surprised when Thor doesn’t behave like himself.

Five years.

It isn’t a long stretch of time but plenty can happen within a short timeframe. ( _Tell me!_ Loki’s memory echoes. And the answer: _I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day_...)

There was a time when Loki would’ve hated to be driven around like this, as if they are common Midgardians, not–

They’re not gods, not anymore. Gods don’t die like he did. Gods die with more grandeur, even if they are to meet their doom. Gods die deaths that are worthy of songs being sung about them, deaths that inspire legends to be passed down for millenia to come. 

But none of them did die like that, not in the end. Odin's was a quiet passing, and Frigga fought until she was overcome with a blade through her back. And Loki... Loki died the least godly death of them all. 

Thor's the only one left who hasn't died yet, though he seems determined to tempt the Norns to try their hand at killing him. Thor knows the legends, Loki spent the days before they left planting the stories in front of him. It wasn't difficult, not when they had few other things to accomplish other than research. But Thor’s not paid any mind to the implications so far and there's nothing Loki could say that would stop him from trying. Loki knows that look, he's seen it before many times, though he remembers it being on a younger and brighter and less bearded face. 

The taxi comes to a stop. 

“Thor?” Loki begins. “What exactly…”

“I told you,” Thor says. "We're going to need equipment."

* * *

They don’t get the equipment.

Thor attempts to, but the workers inside the building are insistent: they won’t allow him to borrow any of their equipment unless he proves he is a certified diver, or, at the very least, has basic training.

Loki thinks it’s a _terrible_ shame.

He talks and they talk, then Thor attempts to reason with them and make his case for how being Asgardian poses less risks underwater than it does for Midgardians (he doesn’t comment on what Loki is), but the workers stand firm and so it happens that they are booked in at the diving centre the following day.

It’s then that Loki starts thinking it actually _is_ a terrible shame.

* * *

Their altered plans mean they have to find somewhere to stay overnight rather than travel straight to the east side of the island, which is where Thor originally planned for them to stay.

There aren't many places available and as a result they're forced to share a room; it has two beds so Loki doesn't raise any complaints. 

It's one night. Just one night. 

The room is nicer than he was expecting, despite the forceful quaintness of its stone walls and wooden floors.

They used to do this constantly when they were younger, travel and adventure together, and they'd do it so often they'd lose track of how many days and nights they spent sharing the same room. They're some of Loki’s fondest memories now, though he would have sworn he despised them at the time. Even the bitterness that comes with knowing how all of it was an illusion, how their blood was never the same, how every feeling he ever had about being an imposter in his own family was valid comes with a certain degree of sweetness, like poison glazed with honey.

Loki leaves his bags by the foot of his bed and when Thor drops his, it barely makes a sound. It’s… odd. 

Where’s his armour? His weapons? Thor doesn’t have Mjolnir anymore, but that doesn’t mean he’s not capable of using anything else. A mace. A club. _Something_ , at least. This is wrong, so very wrong. What sort of adventure with Thor doesn’t involve weaponry of some kind? How else is Thor intending to slay the beast at the end of their quest if he has nothing but his hands? 

This is reckless. Preposterous. It’s almost as if Thor’s deliberately trying to get himself–

"What have you got in there?" Loki asks, mostly because anything's better than finishing that line of thought.

Thor doesn't tell him – he shows him, unbuckling and unzipping one of his rucksacks to reveal his clothing inside: an assortment of fleeces and waterproofs.

"Ah," Loki says. 

Thor perches at the end of his bed and it looks wrong, how child-like the pose is in contrast to his face. 

They've gotten so much older. Loki can't help but suddenly be very much aware of it. They've changed more in the last decade than they have done in centuries. 

"So we’re prepared," Thor says before he seals his bag up again.

_We?_ Does that mean he packed clothing on Loki’s behalf too, or is he counting himself as the only necessary element in his ridiculous scheme?

This is both far too familiar and far too alien at once. The Thor of Loki’s memories would have been too obtuse to make him even question it, but this Thor has a habit of speaking too emptily for Loki to know what he truly means.

Half the day is still left. They should at least attempt to do something, shouldn't they? Hadn’t Loki agreed to come all of these hundreds of miles to avoid the silence that haunted them in New Asgard?

Maybe coming here was a mistake. 

Coming here was a mistake because now it's just the two of them and no distractions and the silence has followed them all the way here.

They have until the early hours of tomorrow before returning to the dive centre and if Thor so much as suggests searching for a television–

"Shall we venture into the town?" Thor asks and there's something contained in his voice that borders on shyness. 

Loki has no better ideas.

* * *

It doesn't take long for Loki to realise Reykjavik was designed to be hospitable for people like themselves: people who are unaccustomed to Iceland with few ideas about where they should eat and spend their nights sleeping and what there is to see and do.

As they pass through the streets, they hear snatches of conversation. The Allspeak translates them regardless, but the undertones of tongues other than Icelandic are still present: German and French, English and Japanese, amongst others. They are far from the only travellers here.

Most of the buildings are brightly coloured with vivid red and green and yellow paint, and the country’s capital overlooks the sea and the mountain that sits on the opposite side of the water.

Thor is the one to lead them, choosing a route that finds its way into busier and busier districts. They pass a cafe with Loki's name on it, an explorable relic of an ancient ship, a church whose architecture looks like it’s incorporated the pipe-like structures of an organ, and the only thing that makes Thor come to a stop is the shop selling craft beer. 

“I haven’t come all this way to watch you drink.” The words leave Loki’s mouth before he can process them but Thor doesn't flinch; it's clear from his lack of response that he's far too used to this, even if Loki has rarely made a comment on some of Thor's newest habits.

“I was only looking,” Thor says, but his eyes linger on the barrels inside

“How about there?” Loki points opposite them, to a building that’s marked with an information icon. “That could be… of use.” It’s one of the last places Loki wants to enter; the only people exiting are excitable tourists with their cameras at the ready, but he’d much rather face that than the prospect of a heavily intoxicated Thor. A mildly intoxicated one is the norm he’s grown used to over the past few weeks, but the heavily intoxicated one is far more difficult to witness.

Thor nods, though whether that’s due to it being something that’s genuinely piqued his interest or the prices of the beers in the windows remains to be seen – they’re marked as costing around 1,400 krónur each, and although Loki doesn’t know what the equivalent of that would be in gold it sounds like an expense they can’t afford.

The interior of the information centre is filled with trinkets, small decorations to hang off keyrings, postcards and jewellery. 

The walls are full of displays, many of them enough to make Loki regret his decision to come here ( _'T_ _ake the magic of Iceland home with you!'_ , they say), but he finds the map acceptably informative enough. There are markers that cover it, many of them indicating grand waterfalls and beaches, hot springs and geysers, nature trails and hiking routes through the mountains and glaciers. 

Thor’s preoccupied with something at the other side of the room, and then there’s the distinctive sound of someone recognising his identity and poorly attempting to conceal their delight when he concedes to a photograph.

When they leave, the amount of leaflets in Thor's hands is stupendous. 

He carries leaflets for at least five different museums, multiple different lava and ice cave tours, boat hiring, whale watching, numerous spas, and Loki doesn’t even bother skimming the rest of them. 

"Thor," Loki says carefully. "Just how much time do you think we'll have?"

Thor shrugs and continues leafing through the pages. "What about this one? A Northern Lights tour?"

"That requires it to be nighttime, Thor."

"Or this one? It’s a concert hall."

"What would we even do at one of those?"

"Or there's this one here–"

But Loki cuts him off. "I fail to see the point of travelling for hours just to see water fall off the end of a cliff."

* * *

They eventually decide on the whale museum. It's one of the few places Loki doesn't voice multiple objections to and Thor's so taken aback that it results in them going there.

All of Asgard's monsters were slain, not forged into displays for the rest of the country to see. Or, at least, if they were displayed then it wasn’t indefinitely. Loki must admit it's an interesting tactic, but that's only until he gets closer and realises all the sea creatures here are only sculptures. 

They're crafted models true to the original size of the creatures, but their sheer size alone still makes them not unimpressive.

Dolphins bigger than Loki and Thor hang from the ceiling, small whales with huge spiralling tusks jutting up from their foreheads are suspended in mid-air, and there are whales with bottled noses and humped backs and eyes that are the size of Loki's hands. The whales are positioned so it looks as if they're in the middle of beating their tails in the water, and they circle them, surrounding them, hanging from above, the gentle blue lighting casting huge silhouetted shadows that engulf where Loki and Thor are standing.

"They're... big," is what Thor settles for.

It takes work for Loki to prevent himself from making a disparaging remark. "I won't disagree with you there."

"Bigger than I was expecting, I mean."

"You've seen the size of Asgard's seas. Now think how much more space these creatures have in Midgard's oceans. It's little wonder they tend to grow so much larger."

They reach the next model, a skeleton with its mouth hinged open.

Thor absently touches the tip of one of the teeth and from this angle it looks as if the creature has seized his forearm in its mouth. "They're larger than many dragons are."

"You have heard the stories of Jörmungandr, haven't you? They don't exactly describe it as petite."

"I _am_ aware, Loki. Contrary to what you seem to think, you're not the only one out of the two of us with the ability to read."

For that, Thor receives a _look_. Loki opens his mouth to retaliate but then it falls shut again. 

Not here. There are far too many people surrounding them.

So he says nothing and for a long moment it feels just like how it used to, only this time he knows precisely how precarious this is. It’s neither a joyous nor a wholly bitter thing to pretend they’re both still the people they were, if only for a few minutes.

It’s quiet.

The low murmur of voices from the visitors around them is the only noise other than the ambient sounds playing through the speakers. There’s the soft muted echo of the underwater world and each whale has its own song, played intermittently and only able to be heard at a close range.

The whale they’re standing closest to releases a series of clicks. Its body is oddly rectangular and there are strange markings on it, raised circles underneath its stomach and around its side.

It’s a good excuse as any to separate himself from Thor.

Scars, Loki realises upon closer inspection. These marks are scars. Inflictions of some kind, brought about with a battle with...

The notice nearby provides the answer: each one of these scars was the result of a sucker, a lifelong impression from an encounter with a monstrously sized tentacle.

It’s little wonder Midgardians have so many stories about their oceans.

* * *

It's Thor who suggests going to another museum.

"I don't recall you ever having an interest in history before," Loki comments.

"I don't," Thor admits. "But Iceland has its own myths about serpents in lakes and seas and I think it's worth considering that they could have the same origins as Jörmungandr."

It’s... not a terrible idea. Far better, even, than what Loki was expecting him to suggest.

The next museum is far more subdued than the previous one.

There's an entire exhibition about Vikings and it's strange to see their names written on the walls.

The artwork is awful. Loki gazes at what's supposed to be a painting of himself, only it doesn't look anything like him; this one's all muscular with peculiarly sharp teeth and hair that's a distinct shade of red.

It's ironic how no one recognises them here. In other places in Iceland, certainly. The airport. The diving centre. But not here, not in the section of a museum that's practically dedicated to them.

They move on.

The stories here are at least interesting, even if the way they're written is in a somewhat too dry style to be enjoyable. Iceland has tales of trolls being taken unawares by sunlight and turning into stone both in the mountains and at sea, stories of hidden people who are supposed to be elves living in a parallel world, and there's a large ring that's said to have been attached to a chest full of treasure hidden behind one of the country's most well-known waterfalls. There's even a model of the waterfall, complete with pumps that circulate the water from the lake to the river at the top again, and the constant trickles are oddly soothing.

It's almost peaceful. 

Thor fingers through the water as it falls and Loki scowls. Thor got there before he did and now he can't do the same thing without it being an imitation.

There’s a frown on his Thor’s face too and he presses his lips together as he deliberates. Finally, he says in a very quiet voice, “There’s something I want you to know.”

Loki goes very still.

“You know…” Thor trails off, staring very intently at the water. “You know I won't force you to stay with me, don’t you?" 

It hurts to nod.

* * *

They find nothing. They search the entirety of the museum, and there is nothing even remotely related to the ocean here. It’s Thor who thinks to approach a member of the museum staff, and he happens upon an otherwise unnoteworthy middle-aged man.

“The Kraken?” the man questions when Thor asks what he knows of monsters that dwell in the water.

“No.” Thor looks to Loki as if he’s expecting to receive his help. “We’re interested in sea serpents.”

“Ah,” the man says. “You mean Jörmungandr.”

“Yes! But also no. You see, we’re uh… We’re already familiar with the Norse stories.”

“So it’s Icelandic stories you want, then.” The man waits for Thor to confirm it with a nod. “Well… What do you know of the Lagarfljót Worm?”

* * *

They're back in their room.

The news of the worm has caused Thor to be tapping away at his mobile device for some time now. 

The worm is named after the lake in which it supposedly dwells in and the stories of it date back hundreds and hundreds of years, many encounters resulting in locals glimpsing a serpentine creature over forty feet long that slithers as easily through trees as it does through water.

Thor _insists_ it’s not a coincidence that this lake also happens to be the lake shown in the original footage they saw on the news. He doesn’t appreciate it when Loki points out that would make it the Lagarfljót Worm or Lagarfljótsormur, and therefore it has even _less_ to do with them than Jörmungandr does.

"Did you... eat well?" Thor asks, though he was there with Loki when he did it. Thor's lying on his bed, and where he’s acquired his bottle from, Loki can’t say, but he drinks it slowly and steadily rather than all at once.

"Sufficiently." Loki had managed a few mouthfuls. That’s sufficient. "Though the more menus I saw the more it makes me doubt how much longer we can afford to stay here."

"I told you not to worry about it."

"I'm not worrying," Loki says. "I'm _despairing_. You're wasting all your remaining money on overpriced meals and beds and all for what? That thing in the footage could just as easily be an illusion formed by shifting ice–"

"Shifting ice?" Thor repeats. "That's an oddly specific example."

"I happened to come across various theories put forward about–" He stops himself from saying _Jörmungandr_. "About whatever the thing is in the footage. Ice frozen onto fishing nets was one of the theories."

"You can't really believe that, do you?"

"And you can't really believe this thing is Jörmungandr, can you?"

"You're wrong," Thor says and it sounds like a promise.

"And even if I am wrong, what exactly is your plan here?"

"Well, first I–"

"The legends say you kill it but it also k–"

"I know of the legends." Thor’s voice isn’t dismissive but neither does it portray concern. Instead, it’s grim. Just grim.

"And you don't think that you should be... more cautious?"

"I thought you didn’t think Jörmungandr was real."

* * *

Sleeping is difficult and Thor’s snores straddle the boundary between infuriating and comforting.

Thor doesn’t want him here. He made that much obvious at the museum. Loki doesn’t know why there’s a part of him that’s surprised; Thor made it clear he’d be happy to leave him behind on Sakaar too, it’s not as if this is the first time this has happened.

Maybe Thor was, if not happy, then at least relieved to see Loki return during the battle. Loki can still remember the way Thor’s mouth fell open and the word _brother_ left his mouth before Thor’s arms were wrapped around him, so tangible and solid and tight, and it was the first thing that felt like it might be real since he died, the _only_ thing.

Thor hasn’t touched him since.

Once the relief of no longer being faced with watching someone he once knew intimately well faded, Loki’s continued presence must’ve started becoming less and less convenient. 

Loki’s better off leaving. He can slip away into the night and never have to say another goodbye, but then that leaves Thor here all alone and with nothing to nurse but his drinks and ideas about how slaying the monster will somehow make him happy.

It won’t.

Loki knows that much.

Thor can only be happy when he leaves, but if Loki leaves him here he might just get himself killed. Not that Loki’s expecting the thing they’re chasing to actually _be_ Jörmungandr, but there are other ways for Thor to get himself killed, more foolish ways.

So Loki will stay. A few more days or a few more weeks, it doesn’t make much of a difference.

* * *

It’s unnecessary. Completely unnecessary. 

Loki has never had reason to test how much longer he can hold his breath for than a Midgardian, but he's willing to bet it's a great deal. 

They're at the diving centre and their instructor and guide for the day is discussing all the possible risks associated with diving, how the pressure can cause bubbles in the blood to form under certain circumstances, how minds can be tricked into creating their own illusions if certain depths are breached. She speaks of malfunctioning equipment and the risks of not paying close attention to how much oxygen is left in their tanks, how boats and stray currents and the sheer force of the water itself often poses a far greater threat than the creatures that inhabit the seas, and how divers themselves are a far greater danger to themselves than anything else. 

Loki survived the abyss. He survived floating through the darkness for what could have been days or weeks or months or years. He survived all that and yet all it took was one hand to crush the life out of him. 

The ocean is the least of his concerns.

"You are partners," their instructor declares. Her name is Anna and she’s one of the few people they’ve come across who doesn’t immediately recognise Thor on sight; mostly because she doesn’t appear to recognise him at all. For that alone, Loki already likes her more than most Midgardians. "Dive partners. That means you never let each other out of sight. It means you know where the other person is at all times. It means you trust the other person to have your back in case there's an emergency because your lives might just depend on it. If you find yourself in water so murky you can't see more than a foot in front of you, you hold on to each other if you have to so you don't lose each other. That’s how seriously I need you to take this. And every time–" she holds up a finger "–every single time before you dive, you make sure you have a plan. The maximum depth you'll dive to. The maximum amount of time you'll spend underwater." She pauses, her face grim. "No one likes to hear this but you need to decide how long you'll spend searching for each other should you somehow lose the other person before returning to the surface." Her eyes flicker between them. "Is that clear?"

Thor nods. Her eyes settle on Loki until he gets the distinct impression that if he doesn't acquiesce this will only take longer and so he nods too. 

“Good,” she says. “We’ll be taking you to dive at Silfra after your initial training. This will either be the best thing for your first dive or the worst thing because it’s one of the most clear naturally occurring waters in the world. It’s an in-island rift between where the North American tectonic plate meets the Eurasian one and it’s filled with water from glacier melts. That’s what makes it so clear. Expect it to be cold. _Very_ cold, especially so early on in the season. Don’t expect to see much in the way of wildlife, because you won’t. It’s only connected to the sea in its outflow, not its inflow since that comes from the mountains.” She turns to lead them into another room. “Here,” she says, “we’ll supply you with equipment. After that, I’ll teach you how to actually _use_ the equipment safely. Now–” she beckons them to follow her towards a line of cylindrical tanks “–let’s get started.”


	3. Bathophobia: The Fear of Depths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Loki and Thor arrive in Iceland and prepare to have a diving induction.

Their induction is thorough and takes the majority of the morning. They're introduced to the equipment, shown what the various meters and gages mean, taught how to reattach their masks if they end up becoming dislodged while underwater. They practice breathing through their regulators while in the pool and once they've mastered that, they're taught how to breathe through each other's secondary regulators should they ever find themselves in an emergency where they can't breathe through their own. 

Having to demonstrate they can actually swim is somewhat disconcerting, something Loki finds ridiculous until Anna recounts a story in which a colleague took a group out to sea and only mid-way through the dive did they discover one of them had never been in water before.

Anna has a lot of stories, most of them involving very fortunate novices either narrowly avoiding drowning or succumbing to the bends, and the remaining involving either very unfortunate or very foolish divers.

The drive to Silfra lasts a few hours. The diving centre has its own van that takes them and Loki changes in the rear end while Thor is forced to change outside. They're given plenty of privacy to do so, though the length of time it takes Loki to get his suit on and the manoeuvres he has to do on account of the length of him is almost enough to make him regret claiming the van. 

Both himself and Thor are standing outside in their dry suits. The material is tight – the tightest Loki's ever worn – and it rubs at the ends of his arm and ankle sleeves. The buoyancy jacket adds a new level of strangeness; it's bulky and the weights attached to it aren't so heavy they're a burden to carry, but they are heavy enough they alter his sense of gravity.

Thor won't stop fiddling with his suit. He tugs at it around his belly and keeps meddling with where the material sits only to move it back to where it originally was beforehand. The material is pulled tight in places, the black becoming lighter the more the rubber is stretched and it's those bits Thor pulls at, in doing so only drawing more attention to them. 

No one has laughed at either of them but that's hardly reassuring when they're paying them not to. 

Loki is accustomed to leather and metal, not this... thing. It weighs far less than armour does but it clings to his skin in ways leather does not and it outlines his body with far more clarity than he's comfortable with. 

It's designed to prevent water from entering it, which means it has to be this tight else the cold will seep in, but it also needs enough room for a layer of air between his skin and the suit. 

As if it matters. He's a Frost Giant. It shouldn't matter, not this much, and yet Loki doubts there was ever a time when it didn't matter, even when he was ignorant of it himself. There's this incongruence between knowing the cold shouldn't bother him and yet the fact remaining that he's still very much affected by it. Snow and ice and chilly waters are just as cold to him as they are to anyone else, but then this isn't his true form, is it?

A true form. If ever such a thing exists. Shapeshifting or magic or illusion, it's just another thing that shouldn't matter. He has no answers and the only thing he's certain of regarding the topic is that the casket was enough to force his skin to turn Jotun-blue. The Casket of Ancient Winters was enough to do that. The cold of Jotunheim was not. But this will be colder, far more submersing than Jotunheim, and what starts off as a distant thought becomes a concern that's rapidly making him want to avoid the water altogether.

This is pointless. Utterly futile. A waste of resources and time when he could be–

When he could be doing what, exactly? What else would he be doing right now if not for being here? Desperately trying to ignore Thor without appearing as if he is doing so? Trying not to notice as the citizens of New Asgard move on without him? 

At least here he's useful, if only because no one else has any objections to Thor's quest. Not even Valkyrie had minded when Thor granted her temporary charge in his absence, though that didn't stop her making a private request that Loki didn't, in her own words, let Thor do anything stupid. 

Thor is standing facing the lake in which Silfra is located, his back turned. The lake reflects the greyness of the clouds above them and there is fog sitting on the hills and mountains that encompass the land. 

When Loki approaches Thor barely looks at him, barely seems to register that he's there.

"Having second thoughts?" Loki asks.

Thor wraps his arms over his buoyancy jacket. "Of course not."

"If it's any consolation, it would be exceedingly difficult to drown you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Thor's tone is almost defensive.

"Or either of us, now I come to think of it."

"Oh." There's stiffness in the way Thor forces himself to unclench his arms. "I thought you were– Never mind."

"If I wanted to mock you, I like to think I would choose subject matter that requires a little more wit than your weight." And when Thor looks as if he might have ventured beyond the boundary of rationality and be on the brink of thanking him, Loki hastily adds, "There's a wide plethora of other things I could mock you for, after all."

The corner of Thor's mouth twitches but whatever he was going to say is lost when Anna calls them and they're summoned to follow her to the edge of the water, their fins and the rest of their gear in hand.

The bank has steps. Not natural ones, metal ones fixed in place with bolts. 

"Don't be surprised by the cold," she warns them. They've already been informed of this enough times to lose count. "We don't support novice dives during certain seasons because of how cold it is and right now the water’s still a very low temperature from the spring melt."

Thor's returning smile is slightly on the tight side. "I'm well insulated."

She doesn't respond to that, though whether it's out of tact or out of indifference Loki can't say. 

Anna checks their gear before they go in and then, once she’s satisfied with what she sees, they follow her into the water.

The route down the steps is a difficult one, a precarious one. They have to put their flippers on before going in otherwise the cold will reach their feet too early on, which means they have to attempt to edge down the slippery metal while wearing the things.

It's enough to make Loki relieved there's a railing. Not that it matters; they'll be submerged before long anyway and what's the worst that could happen if he slips? He'll get wet?

Loki is the last to get into the water and there are gaps between his suit and gloves where the water hits and it's such a stinging cold that it only further confirms his heritage definitely won't give him an advantage here.

Anna's going over everything she's already told them again before they go beneath the surface; about how they should always remain in sight of each other and check their depth and pressure gauges every few minutes and to sign if they became unhappy with something. She reminds them to stay clear of the cave entrances on account of the pressure changes around them causing the currents to be unpredictable and that despite Silfra having a maximum depth of just over sixty meters they won't be going below a depth of fifteen.

Her talk continues for so long Loki is surprised when the time comes to finally go underwater.

He puts the regulator in his mouth – and that's another thing he's trying very hard not to think about, how many Midgardians have put this thing in their mouths before he has – and then he ducks his head.

* * *

It's blue. 

Very blue.

And cold, so very cold. The suit has served its purpose of remaining watertight but all his the exposed skin, the slivers and cracks between the mask and the suit, face an assault of something that feels colder than ice. It isn't. Loki knows it isn't, but the way it surrounds him and the way it penetrates through his flesh makes him have second doubts.

The crevasse they're in is narrow, only wide enough to contain a few people side by side.

The water here is clear. Much to Loki's surprise, that aspect wasn't exaggerated in what they'd previously been told. The horizon of the underwater landscape is only obscured because of the path between the cliffs reaching a curve.

All three of them hover just under the surface, facing each other in a circle, steams of bubbles emitting into the water from their regulators with each exhale. Anna holds up her fingers, her thumb and index finger pressed together. It’s a question: _Okay?_ Loki mirrors the sign back to her and Thor does the same.

Anna nods, then she turns and begins to swim moving nothing but her fins, each kick so slow and leisurely it’s more of a stroke than a kick. Loki and Thor follow. 

It's serene here. There's a certain quiet stillness that can't be found on land and the contrast between them is impossible to ignore; the colours, the formations in the rock, the way gravity works.

Frequently, Anna turns around to check they're both still following. 

And they are. 

Loki... doesn't actually mind this. His fins allow him to propel himself with very little effort and there is a unique prettiness to this place he hasn't seen on any other realm. It's enough that he's even beginning to see why some might be inclined towards liking this sport. Then he makes the mistake of looking down.

The blueness just keeps on stretching, getting deeper and darker and deeper and darker and he can make out something that only _might_ be a bottom and whatever is down there is so very blue and he's hovering right above it. 

If he was to stop – to stop moving his fins, to stop putting up any fight at all – he would drift and down and down he would sink, the water taking him deeper and deeper into its icy embrace. 

His muscles tighten. 

Something seizes in his throat.

It is a very _very_ long way down. 

This isn't the void, it _isn't_. There is light and colour here and he can keep himself adrift, can make himself float. There is a floor – just because he can barely see it doesn't mean it's not there, and there are tiny speckles that float through the water that don't resemble stars at all because this isn't the void and he isn't falling anywhere.

Loki is alive and he hasn't let go. Not this time.

He presses his thumb into his wrist; the suit is thick enough he can't feel his pulse in the usual place but he's pressing hard enough that he can feel it in his thumb instead. 

His heart is still working. Good. But his lungs...

His lungs are very small all of a sudden. 

He tries to take a breath.

Nothing happens.

This isn't good at all, this is the exact opposite of that – why can't he take a breath anymore? 

Loki tries again, more urgently this time. It works, but only to some extent. There is air in his lungs but it's not enough and it feels so shallow that he doesn't know how he's expected to last the entire journey while his air supply is so so thin that–

Thor is looking at him. Their guide is too, they're still waiting for him, barely moving in order to remain in place. Anna is holding her hand up, her okay sign in place. 

This is ridiculous – no, this is _beyond_ ridiculous. He's not going to fall, he's not going to drown, he's not going to let himself sink down there. This is– This is just something he can see. Visual stimulus. That's all it is. It’s a landscape of rock disappearing into blueness and the sight of it alone is enough to reduce him to this, to this wretched creature that can't even breathe properly and all the while there is a human and Thor who are perfectly content and perfectly adapted and he's the only one who has a problem with it.

Loki makes the okay sign back at Anna and she nods in return. Good. She doesn't know. She doesn't know how pathetic he's being, how absurdly irrational and how weak this is making him. 

Anna turns and slowly, bit by bit, she makes her way deeper. 

Oh, by the gods, not deeper.

He's getting less air, he's getting less air.

Thor starts to follow but then he pauses and motions for Loki to pass ahead of him. Loki doesn't have the time to argue using nothing but gestures so he overtakes him and all the while, Thor's frowning at him. 

Why’s Thor–

Of course. Loki’s gas tank. It’s not him, it’s the _tank_. There must be something wrong with it, it must be malfunctioning, _that’s_ why he can’t breathe, there must be a block somewhere or a closed value or...

But surely if there is a fault, Thor would do something other than frown at him, wouldn't he? It’s hard to discern the expression behind his mask but what little Loki can make out appears to be confusion rather than concern and irrespective of how little Thor seems to be enjoying his company, he’d enjoy himself even less if he was once again burdened by Loki’s death on his conscience.

Thor had once hung precariously from the Bifrost and yet being here doesn’t seem to be bothering him in the slightest. He’s comfortable hovering where he is regardless of the expanse underneath him and Loki can see just how little he’s affected because every time Thor exhales one of his evenly timed breaths there’s a hoard of bubbles that escape into the water.

The bubbles that escape from Loki are smaller, faster, more chaotic. How is Thor doing that? It’s all very well for him, with his reliable steadiness and deep even breaths.

Ah. Maybe that’s it.

Loki is breathing too shallowly to get enough air from the regulator. 

But he can still breathe. For now. It's thin but it's there and if he's not careful, he may no longer be able to. No. That's nonsense. He's barely a few meters below the surface so even in the event of running out of air, it'll take him hardly any time to be breathing actual air again instead of through the tank. 

The way Thor's hovering in front of him is both a comfort and a cause for concern. Thor isn’t going to let him drown but is it that obvious how much this is affecting him? How much can Thor see while his face is obscured by his mask? Are his eyes giving him away or is it something else?

He's not going to go to pieces in front of Thor, he's not. Thor already witnessed him slip away once. Twice. No – _thrice_. 

It's resolve more than anything else that makes Loki readjust so he's no longer looking downwards and then he forces himself to take one very deep slow breath. The air comes out of the tank and his lungs are suddenly fuller and there's nothing thin about this and just for a second it's glorious.

To think Loki forgot something so simple. Anna went over this extensively, how to breathe correctly. How many times had she repeated that panicking was the biggest danger to divers? How much had she emphasised how much more at risk novices were? And then, only a matter of seconds after being underwater, Loki went and forgot it all.

Maybe they do need a guide after all. What a terrible thought.

But Thor's still waiting, brows furrowed behind his mask. 

Loki makes the okay sign. 

They swim on.

Anna is below them, her neck craned as she peers up at them. She's poised as if on the brink of swimming back to them and how can she remain like that, so perfectly at ease over such a huge drop despite being so mortal? This is her job, her occupation – how can she be so calm with all that empty space beneath her?

She makes it all seem so easy – easier than even Thor does – and for that Loki doesn't know if he'll ever forgive her.

Loki doesn't look down. He’s learned that lesson now. He keeps his eyes firmly ahead, trying to convince himself that water isn't something to be afraid of – he certainly never used to be – and he's uncomfortably aware of how if he doesn't get this under control he'll only use his remaining air faster. 

Loki blames Anna for her repeated talks about all the potential dangers they could be facing embedding themselves in the back of his mind. As for drowning, he need not fear that, surely. 

Drowning would be that desperate scrambling to breathe and lungs so empty they might implode and that primal need for air, any air, but none coming and the pain in his ribs becoming tighter and tighter and tighter but nothing yielding and when it seems like it can’t go on any longer it does until he just becomes nothing at all. Loki can't let that happen again, even if there was no water involved the last time.

He closes his eyes and when he opens them again the sheer amount of blue is no less unsettling.

It's a colour. Just a colour. He has no issues with facing an open sky so why should this be any different? He can leave the house he and Thor have been granted and have an endless amount of blue in the sky above him and that doesn't cause him to act so irrationally. In fact, the sky leads to the expanse of space which should be worse, much worse, because Loki knows precisely what floating through the abyss of space leads to and he doesn't need any convincing that anything the ocean could devise could possibly be any worse. 

But the water is heavier here, more suppressive. He internally curses again when Anna takes them a little deeper and the pressure makes his ears click as they descend.

The blue gets darker.

Eleven meters, his depth gauge reads.

They continue on. 

Not deeper this time, but further. 

The gap between the fissure is narrow enough that he could touch both sides of it with his hands if he wanted to, and he attempts to distract himself by looking at the formations in the rocks and all the various bits of coral and patterns in the stone. There are lines that run like black veins and small fragments of quartz that have become stuck in the stone. Layers and layers of rock line the faces and the thing he's looking at is more of an abstract mosaic than anything else.

Along the ridge to his left, there's a raised shape that snakes its way out from somewhere underneath them, its origins obscured by stone. It's as wide as Loki is and it would've reminded him of a tree root except it doesn't branch and this one has corals growing on it, bright red tube-like structures that form uniform clusters of circles.

Anna points her finger to where the root disappears – a well-disguised hollow in the rock that must be a cave – and makes a point of giving it a wide berth.

It must be one of the caves she mentioned beforehand.

The water is so cold Loki's face is numb and the cave is the first glimpse of true blackness he's gotten down here. It’s enough to make him almost consider pointing upwards in a wordless plea to return to the surface, to feel the air upon his face and to stop this feeling of helpless weightlessness.

Loki does not break.

This is water. Only water. There is nothing here that can hurt him. 

Another breath. In. Out. The apparatus makes it sound mechanical, but at least it's confirmation it's still working.

There. He's passed the cave. 

His pressure gauge is reading that a third of his air is gone. Is that more than what Anna said they should expect to use? Loki can't remember, not anymore, not while he's stuck down here. 

When he reaches Anna they both have to wait for Thor. Anna's frowning at him. Maybe his expression is giving something away, maybe it's still visible even through his mask despite how much he’s trying to make it remain neutral.

Loki needs to do a better job. He definitely does because she starts signing to him, moving her arm to and from her chest. _Breathe_ , she’s telling him. As if it hasn’t already occurred to him. 

Loki glares but she misses the hint and only stops when he makes the okay sign back at her but by then he’s already so distracted by his annoyance that his breathing is once again fine.

Thor's reached them and then they're off again, only they're heading at a gradual incline upwards instead of downwards and Anna leads them towards the top of one of the cliff faces.

It's a very shallow section to cross, and Loki has never been more glad to have his hands touch sand. There must only be a few inches between his head and the surface and when he looks down the floor is exactly where it should be. This is better. Much better. He can think here and every breath doesn't seem as emphatically finite as it did before.

The light reflects on the carpet of sand in patterns of dancing lines and Loki no longer has to concentrate on maintaining an expression of neutrality. 

They move slowly but it's not as slow as he'd like and the brief moment of respite is over far too quickly. They reach the other side of the and there's yet another drop filled with nothing but–

It's not filled with nothing. 

There's something there.

Anna holds up a hand to signal they should stay back while she goes out to inspect it.

Against the backdrop of the body of water, her body looks very small.

The thing that floats in the water is both very large and very still. It's pale and there are pieces of it that have disintegrated in the water, little tendrils hanging loose and swaying in the current.

It's flesh, Loki realises, flesh from an animal or creature, only it must have been there for some time because there's no blood coming from it to stain the water. Though its form isn't solid enough to be certain of what its true shape would have been, it's familiar somehow.

A whale. Not one of the larger ones, but a whale nonetheless. The size of it must be larger than the three of them combined and it’s mostly black with occasional white markings that would've looked elegant had it not been so violently mauled. 

It's dead. It has to be. 

Something's torn one of its fins and there are marks along the edges that could only have been made with very sharp teeth. 

Anna has noticed those too, and the instant she does she turns around and signs for then to return back the way they came.

Loki is more than happy to oblige.

Something seems wrong though, more wrong than unexpectedly stumbling across a whale carcass, and that thing is the fact that something of such a size managed to make its way here. This is a _lake_ , not the ocean, and unless Loki's very much mistaken there are no such things as freshwater whales. 

But Thor doesn't seem to have paid much mind to that fact, despite Anna's clear change in swimming style; no longer leisurely, fast but without racing. Thor's edging closer towards the drop-off, his eyes focused on the carcass. 

Jörmungandr. Thor thinks this somehow links to Jörmungandr.

Only, for the first time, it doesn’t seem that impossible.

Gesturing emphatically does nothing. Neither does tugging at Thor's arm. In the end, it's Anna who persuades him to give it up with nothing but firm resolve when she reaches the clifftop. She points to both of them, then makes the gesture to return so vigorously that a storm of bubbles form in the water as she does so. 

She sends them both ahead of her but they can't ask questions, not while they're underneath the water.

The depths of the water have somehow gotten more foreboding than before. If there's something down there with the ability to slaughter a whale... Whatever it is would have to be a strategic hunter. An opportunistic hunter. But is it one that strikes quickly or bides its time? Does it wait for its prey to come to it or does it swim out towards its prey?

Does it know they're there?

Something of that nature might even be enough to bring harm to either Loki or Thor, and as for Anna... Loki isn't particularly attached to her but neither does he have any desire to watch her get torn to pieces, even as whenever he turns around, Anna, as if they might have forgotten, keeps motioning for them to ascend at a gradual incline rather than all at once.

Loki swims faster and Thor remains ahead of him, his strength allowing him to kick harder and outweighing any advantage Loki would have with being able to move faster on land.

The additional exertion causes his pressure gauge to drop lower and lower by the second.

They don't stop.

They don't stop glancing behind them either, though Thor seems to only do it to ensure they're all still there rather than out of concern for anything that might be pursuing them.

If there is something that failed to notice them before, it's bound to have noticed them now with all the bubbles and disturbances in the water they're causing.

By the time they reach the metal stairs again, the muscles in Loki's legs are burning.

He seizes a rung and hauls himself up. Something grabs his arm. That thing is pulling too, but it's pulling him out of the water instead of into its depths.

It's Thor. 

There's enough time for Loki to rip the regulator out of his mouth before Thor drags Anna up – he's probably hindering her more than helping her but she doesn't say anything – and, in a strange unspoken pact, they begin to make their way back towards the van without saying a word. 

The warmth of the air stings as it meets Loki's skin.

"Anna," Thor begins. The whiteness of her skin can be put down to the cold but the confusion on her face can't be. "What was that? Why was it there?"

"I..." Her mouth falls closed. "I don’t know. I've never seen anything like that here before. I don't know why it was there. I don't know how it _could_ have been there."

"Couldn't it swim?"

She shakes her head. "I told you: there's only one river from this lake and it's an outward flowing one. There's no chance anything of this size could make it upstream. Even if it could, I don't see why it would bother."

"So how did it get there then?"

She's silent for a long moment. "It can't have got there by itself. Something else must've put it there." She bites her lip in thought. "Poachers? I've never heard of poachers dumping whale carcasses so far inland but that's the only feasible explanation. It’s a good job we left as quickly as we did, if there are poachers still in the area–"

"I saw the teeth marks on it," Thor interrupts. "Humans can't have done that."

"There are plenty of things that could’ve done that, usually starting with the larger predators like sharks and ending with worms and crabs once it sinks to the ocean floor. But the feeding can’t have occurred until after it's death, it _can’t_ have done.” Her eyes have yet to return to their normal size. “Orcas are apex predators. There’s nothing that could kill them so easily that isn’t human."

Thor makes a twitch of gesture that's not quite a shaking of his head but is close enough. It's clear he's already reached a hypothesis.

Loki waits until Thor walks further ahead before he asks Anna, voice lowered, "How likely is it for poachers to bother with retrieving a whale that's already been half-eaten?"

"I don't know. That's the thing about illegal trade: the only statistics we have are only from the evidence we've been able to find."

"And if it wasn't poachers?"

She eyes him. The colour still hasn’t returned to her cheeks. "I'll be alerting the team to what we found today. We can... investigate. Investigating is supposed to be the standard procedure."

"And how standard is this, exactly?"

Her lips become thin. "Not standard at all."


	4. Scotomaphobia: The Fear of Being Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Loki and Thor dive in Silfra and find something that's a little out of place.

"That's it," Thor says when they get back to their room. "That's the sign there's something in the water."

Loki doesn't say anything.

"Don't you think?" Thor asks.

"I think," Loki says slowly, "that you're leaping to conclusions here."

"I'm leaping towards conclusions? What more evidence do you need? First we have the camera footage of it, now we find a whale in a place where there shouldn't be any life at all and you think I'm leaping towards conclusions when I think these two things are connected?"

Loki leans back in his bed and his head thuds against the wall. If he admits there might be the slightest bit of a possibility of Thor being right, there'll be no reigning him in. He'll go recklessly barraging into whatever danger is waiting for him – Loki has had a lifetime of witnessing it to know this will not end any differently. "You think we just happened to stumble across Jörmungandr's prey in the first place we dive? A place which, might I add, happens to be on the opposite side of the island to where the creature was originally supposed to have been sighted? There are no rivers connecting the two, nor do they share the same water source, it’s not as if it could have just migrated to Silfra." There. If Thor believes that then their chance of never encountering whatever might have attacked the whale is significantly higher.

Thor stills. For a moment, he looks as if he might actually be considering Loki's words as he shifts on his mattress. "But it's still strange, isn't it?"

"It is," Loki agrees warily. "But that doesn't mean it has to be what you want it to be."

"And what is it that I want it to be?"

"Jörmungandr," Loki answers. "It's what you came here for, isn't it?"

"Yes, but–"

"It's your entire purpose for being here."

"But that doesn't mean–"

"I'm trying," Loki says, his voice rising to surpass the volume of Thor's, "to talk some sense into you. Even on the off chance we _do_ find Jörmungandr, what is your plan, exactly? You don't even have Mjölnir."

Thor frowns. "What would I need Mjölnir for?"

"Ah, I suppose you're under the impression that a monstrous sea snake will be no match for your mighty strength. Why bother with a weapon when you could just strangle it with your bare hands?"

"Strangle it?" Thor jolts upright. "You think I'm here to kill it?"

"What else would you do to it?"

Thor's stares at him, with something akin to horror and sadness and ... is that pity? What's Loki supposed to have done to earn _pity?_

There's nothing he can do with this brand of pity, not when he doesn't understand what's supposed to have merited it. How's he supposed to fight back, to snarl and weaponise every word he has to to ensure it never happens again when he can't identify the source of it?

Thor swallows as he deliberates his next words, and when he utters them they are spoken quietly, solemnly. "I'm not who I once was."

"Ah yes, how foolish of me. I forgot you're supposed to put up a show of reluctance to slay something before you do it now."

" _No_." And with a breath, Thor steadies himself. He closes his eyes. Takes another breath. Opens his eyes again and when he speaks the words are barely audible, "I've seen enough death to last a lifetime."

Whatever Loki was going to say next is lost. There's something so inherently wrong to seeing Thor like this, his hands wrought together, eyes close to shining, mouth pressed tight.

The viciousness that was brewing in Loki’s chest has gone. "We both know how the stories end, Thor." The words are weary, exhausted.

Thor's eyes meet his. "And how is that?"

"The story ends when the monster dies."

Thor's lips part. He shakes his head and he's so intensely focused on Loki, as if he's convinced himself it's of the utmost importance he believes him, as if he'll have failed somehow if he doesn't. "It doesn't have to be that way."

Loki releases a laugh that’s more disbelief than anything else. "Doesn't it?"

"This isn't a story."

"That never used to stop you."

"This isn't– I'm not–" Thor stops and tries again. "I was young. I didn't know any better." One of his hands starts fiddling with the torn fabric that covers his knees. "I'm older now. And I'm wiser with it too, I hope."

"If the story doesn't have to end that way then tell me of a single monster that got to live."

Thor is silent. His eyes keep darting as he tries to think but he can't name one, Loki knows it.

"It is as I said," Loki concludes.

"That's not true."

"Surely if that's the case you should be able to name at least _one_ –"

"The Jotuns!" Thor interrupts. Thor's mouth snaps closed. "No. That's isn’t– That's not what I meant. I meant they're the monsters in the stories but I still saved them, remember? After everything Father hid from us I don’t know how much of a position we’re in to call other races monsters, but the Jotuns were still the monsters from the stories we told ourselves, even if I’m not sure how justified–” He stops speaking, suddenly very much aware of how much it sounds like he’s pleading. "You know I didn’t mean you. You understand what I'm saying, don't you?"

"Of course." Loki's lips twist upwards. "I did die, after all. I suppose I'd make a fine illustration of my own point even if I didn't have the common courtesy to remain dead."

"No. That's not–" Thor reaches forwards, his hand closing around Loki's wrist and Loki yanks his arm free out of reflex. "You're not a monster."

"How many Asgardians are dead because of me? How many others?”

"I don't know."

"That’s because,” Loki says, and he’s snarling now, his body contorted into a leer, “you don't want to _think_."

Thor remains very still.

"How many lives, Thor? And for what?"

One of Thor’s hands twitches, as if he was about to attempt to reach out to him again but changed his mind. "You're not a monster, why must you always–"

"Then you must have a very unusual definition of the word."

Thor sags. "You might have done some monstrous things," he admits. "But doing monstrous things isn't the same thing as being monstrous."

"Then how," Loki asks, "can you ever possibly distinguish between the two?"

There’s a pause as Thor opens his mouth but no words come out. Finally, in a voice that’s quiet and tentative, he says, “Sometimes… Sometimes you can’t.”

Loki forces the emotion to leave his face and he has to fight to give the impression of impassiveness, of a stare that’s flat and empty because he isn't sure who he's angrier with – himself for asking or Thor whose only answer is one of the least reassuring things he’s heard.

* * *

Silence is an uneasy thing.

It presses like a weight, more oppressive than the darkness that blankets the room.

Thor has never had much difficulty falling asleep but tonight Loki has yet to hear his snores. There's not even the preliminary deep breaths, just the rustling of Thor’s blankets as he turns over and lies in a new position.

Loki remains perfectly still, covers drawn, lying flat on his back.

"Loki?" Thor whispers. Loki does not respond. "Are you awake?" This time, the whisper is slightly louder. There's a huff of breath. "I know you're awake." Despite his claims, he's still whispering. "I wish– I wish I could give you what you want from me. I just... I don't know what that is."

Loki swallows passed the ache in his throat.

_Neither do I_.

* * *

There's no acknowledgement of it the next day, which Loki does not object to. They rise early to pack their belongings since Thor has arranged for their transport to Lagarfljót, a journey that'll take most of the day given how it’s on the east side of the country rather than the west. 

"Loki..." Thor says, trailing off as he stuffs his clothing into an already overpacked rucksack. Loki has come to dread sentences that begin like that. "Are you–" Thor stops to fight the zip of his rucksack. "Are you sure you, you know..."

Loki looks up from folding his clothing with exasperation. "I'm not sure what you're trying to ask here."

"Are you sure you actually want to be here?" Thor asks and Loki's fingers end up clenching around the fold he's making. "No one's forcing you to stay in Iceland. I know you were never keen to catch Jörmungandr."

Loki's hands leave the fabric but his eyes remain fixated on it. "Would you rather I leave?"

"No!" Then Thor hesitates. "Not unless you want to be somewhere else. Sometimes I... get the feeling you'd rather be somewhere else."

Loki stills. How he wishes that it was true. He does not have the privilege to want to be somewhere else, anywhere else. He would dream of escaping if only he had somewhere to escape to, but there isn't a single place he wants to be as long as it isn’t nowhere and he isn’t nothing again.

It's at times like this when Loki misses his ambition. His former self harboured much more interest in travelling to other places, in learning about the history that lay within the different lands he walked on, about the Nine Realms, about what lay beyond them – until he discovered the answers for himself, that was. And it wasn't that many years ago when he'd been the closest to comfortable he'd gotten in a while when he'd been fortifying Asgard's defences during his reign as Odin.

"Not particularly," Loki manages.

Thor nods. "Then there's something else I need to ask you."

Dread seeps through the lining of Loki's stomach. "What," he says, the intonation flat.

"I want your input," Thor says and Loki turns to stare at him. "On Lagarfljót.” Thor brings out one of his many leaflets. "The whole lake is sixteen miles across so I need a better strategy for searching it otherwise we could be doing it for weeks." He holds out the map. Gingerly, Loki takes it and it's odd how much the exchange feels like a peace offering.

The last time Thor asked for Loki's input on something like this was when he was still in his cell, though that was for a considerably different venture and he’d hardly given him any choice in the matter. It's surreal to have him asking for it after all this time.

"I'll devise something while we're making our way there," Loki promises.

"You will?" Thor's face has lit up; he's far too happy to hear it, unreasonably so.

"It's not as if I won't personally benefit from having to spend less time blundering around the bottom of a lake."

"About that," Thor says. "I'm not sure it's a good idea for us both to dive."

"What do you expect me to do in the meantime? Spend my days trailing after tourists?"

"You don't need to wait for me. You don't even need to help me if you don't want to. You could just... stay with me. Not in the lake, I mean. We could stay at the same places and eat together and spend our evenings doing things together. This is supposed to be a beautiful country. It'd be a shame if we never got to see very much of it."

"Oh?" The offer is tempting. Avoid ever having to look down at a never-ending expanse of water again. Let Thor be the only one affected by his ridiculous desire to prove his usefulness… Except Thor wouldn’t be the only one affected, would he?

Thor nods. "There must be plenty of things here that would interest you. I–” His frown is soft. "I wouldn't want you to miss out on my account."

Loki blinks at him. It's been apparent for some time how little he knows this Thor but it's not until now he realises how much he might like to know this one better. 

"Thank you?" Loki says.

"Right. So that's settled then. Once we have a strategy, I'll start searching Lagarfljót–"

"On your own?"

"I know we're technically supposed to go with a diving partner, but it's just a lake, it’s not _that_ dangerous."

"It's a lake that surpasses a hundred metres deep in places, Thor."

"I'll be fine."

"You heard the stories. You heard what Anna said before we left. We have the bare minimum amount of practice and knowledge to dive to thirty meters, let alone _beyond_ it, and even then, it’s still considered unwise for us to do so by ourselves.”

"We're not human. We're far less breakable than the people who make the qualifications are used to."

"Asgardians hardly have much experience with being at such depths. You don't know the full extent of the risks because no one has tested them before."

"Then I won't dive to the deepest points then." The _until I have to_ is left unspoken.

There's an image that roots itself in Loki's mind, one of Thor floating through dark water that has no end. There are too many possibilities. His gear could get stuck on something in the water. He could have an onset of the delusions Anna mentioned if he dives too deeply. He could ascend too quickly from the depths. His regulator could fail. He could lose his mask and his way. He could run out of air without noticing. In the image, Thor's fingers desperately scramble to reach air and his eyes scream with the need to breathe. 

And that's assuming there _is_ no giant serpent in the lake. But considering the misplaced whale in Silfra, Loki would much prefer to take their chances at Lagarfljót.

"No,” Loki responds. “If you go alone and return claiming you found Jörmungandr then I'd never believe you."

"So you're coming with me?"

"Unfortunately," Loki replies, "yes."

The smile that breaks on Thor's face is neither a large nor a bright one; it's subtle and small and it's warming in a way that a candle is rather than a hearth.

"You know," Thor says and there's something akin to teasing in the way he speaks, "if you're searching the lake with me, you'll have to actually dive in it."

"I thought that much was obvious."

"You'll have to lower yourself to swimming in muddy water, covered in _slime_ and _dirt_ and water _weeds_."

"I'm glad the thought amuses you."

Thor lets out a faint chuckle. "Of course it does. You were never one for–" he stops to contort his expression into one of exaggerated disgust, one he thinks is a mockery of Loki when faced with something unsavoury "–being unclean."

There's a pang; a distant yearning for what they once had because it's not the same as it was and it never will be again but Thor is trying and it feels forced and stilted but he's still _trying_.

"Are you attempting to deter me?"

Thor drops the facade. "I saw you, Loki."

The pang, whatever nameless feeling it was, dies. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I saw how much you didn't like it."

"Diving? I don't think any reasonable person would enjoy being subjected to being submerged in water that cold."

"That was more than a reaction to the cold and you know it."

"As fascinating a theory as that is–"

"What I'm trying to say is that it's fine. Really. Like I said, you don't have to go underwater with me. If it's a problem–"

"I don't have a problem."

Thor eyes him.

"My regulator was a little constricted. Once it cleared properly again, I was fine." And when Thor still doesn't look convinced, Loki adds, "Truly. I don't have a problem."

_Liar_ , Loki’s thoughts taunt.

* * *

Less than a minute here is almost enough to make Loki miss Silfra. Not because of the depths, that’s something he certainly doesn’t miss, but because of the water. 

The water here is murky, filled with the sediment of soil. There's mud and greenery and the water is tinged a dull brown but at least he can see the bottom of the lake here. 

There's life here too – not staggeringly huge amounts of it, but still life. There’s a shoal of tiny fish that flitter around beneath him and what Loki originally thought was nothing more than some kind of leaf surprises him when it starts swimming and it turns out it's a creature.

He can do this.

The weightlessness is still unpleasantly familiar, but he can see the maximum of how far he can possibly sink and so this is fine. Not ideal, but manageable.

Loki spent the previous evening scouring the camera footage from the news and managed to match some trees in the background of it to the same trees by the lake, and from there he got the general area of where the thing was.

Loki hopes it remains as a _was_.

Because if it isn't... 

They're not prepared for this. His knives might not be enough. His illusions might not be enough. Thor's strength might not be enough either and then they'll be truly desperate.

This way they’re getting the dive out of the way. If there’s no persuading Thor to abandon his quest altogether, then it’s inevitable they’ll have to search here at some anyway and surely it’s better to do that while they’re well-rested and aren’t so used to this that they start getting complacent.

It's easier now. The suit, though still tight, feels if not comfortable then at least a little less of a hindrance. 

Thor swims parallel to him, a gap of a few meters separating them. He's yet to race ahead without warning, but so far he seems to be... actually taking Loki's suggestions. It was Loki who managed to triangulate a location and Loki who separated the map of the lake into manageable chunks they'd be able to comb through systematically. The sheer quantity of dives they might have to do to search the entire lake is almost enough to make Loki wish they'd find Jörmungandr on their first try.

Almost.

Thor keeps glancing at him. It might not have been noticeable if not for how the edge of the mask obscures his peripheral vision so he has to turn his head to get a better look.

He's monitoring him. _Him_. Loki doesn't need monitoring, he's not the one with the history of reckless adventuring and thrusting himself into dangerous situations. For Thor to be like this; cautious, practically conscientious by comparison, is something that might make a nice change if not for how it's directed at him now, how Thor keeps looking at him in case he starts struggling to breathe again.

_It's because he knows_ , a voice whispers. _He saw you and now he knows how weak this makes you and you've provided another opportunity for him to prove to himself that he's the hero._

Diving partners. They’re diving partners. Monitoring each other is supposed to be normal practice. Safe practice.

But Thor never used to hold those in high regard, did he? How many of Thor's decisions used to result in Sif or the Warriors Three getting into mortal peril? How many situations had he then refused to admit could have killed his own brother?

Over the centuries, Loki had lost count. Over the centuries, the risks were an ingrained part of the adventure, an unspoken promise, even part of the allure of it.

But Thor isn't insisting that he storms ahead. He isn't insisting he goes alone or that they don't need any equipment. He even peered over Loki's back before they entered the water to check his gear, though he neglected to check his own.

It's strange, how different the world is now. Not just the world but the _worlds_.

All nine of them.

And then there's this one, and being submerged in this lake is as much a contrast as travelling to and from different realms is. Loki can only see a few meters in front of him and every time Thor kicks there’s a cloud of dirt he disturbs. There’s so much of it the light here is dim and there are all these brown specks and leaves that float in the water. There’s no avoiding them, Loki can feel it every time he moves, how they brush off his exposed skin.

This is a place that is far more impacted by humans than Silfra was; there are enough man-made objects they come across to lose count. The most easily identifiable ones are the fishing lures, brightly coloured pieces of plastic, but there are other things here too: plastic bags and metal cans and the ends of cigarettes. Iceland is a country that’s considerably cleaner than many Loki has seen but it isn’t immune to humans losing or discarding their items in the nearest convenient place. 

Their way is slow, at first. There's little in the way to see but murk.

On occasion, they'll disturb something and there'll be a flash of movement. There's something that camouflages itself as the lake floor, its skin dotted with browns and blacks and greys just like soil and rock and every now and then they come across a species of fish that’s as brown as the water is and is faster than them, too wary to allow them to get a closer look without darting away.

The further they swim, the deeper the water gets.

They remain close to the bottom of the lake and somehow it's more bearable this way, even though it keeps getting progressively darker as the light from the surface is filtered more and more by the water.

If they want to go much deeper, they’ll need a source of light.

Swimming here is like swimming through fog, only it’s a fog that’s tangible, a fog that surrounds them from every conceivable direction.

Loki checks his gauge.

Nine meters.

Thirteen meters.

The ground levels here, and they're able to survey what's essentially a large shelf. 

Inexplicably, there's a bike here, its wheels nestled in the soil. There are fewer plastic bags than closer to the bank, but the debris here is composed of larger matter instead. There's even a boat, one large enough to only hold a handful of people, but it's split in two and what was once white has now yellowed. 

Looking at the boat makes him uneasy. Even knowing there are countless reasons for it to sink and the cause is far more likely to be due to an accident rather than because of Jörmungandr still makes him wary, and he can’t stop himself from trying to see through the mirk in case there are any moving shapes, any signs of a creature inhabiting this place that’s any larger than the fish they’ve seen.

He doesn’t see a thing. 

It's cold here, though not as cold as Silfra. 

Loki still has an almost full tank, something that's both a blessing and a curse – he's breathing at an acceptable rate but that means they could be here for hours since he can’t use being low on air as an excuse.

Loki doesn't look upwards; it makes it worse if he does. It's not as bad as looking down when there's nothing below him, but there's still something unsettling about the sheer amount of weight above him, how he'll have to fight his way through all of that should the need arise. 

He can't see the surface now, the light is so obscured. 

Every time he swallows, there's a faint click in his ears that persists and won't go away. 

Thor hasn’t stopped sparing him all these glances when he thinks he's not looking.

Loki is fine. He’s fine even though it's darker and murkier here and the further they go the blacker it gets. As long as he can see that there's something below him, it doesn't matter how deep they go. 

Everything's filthy here, so green and brown and he's convinced when he leaves he's never going to be able to wash this all off. 

How does Thor think they’ll ever be able to find anything when they can’t see more than a couple of meters ahead of them? Does he really think Jörmungandr will just show itself now they're here?

The lake might be a large one but surely more than a handful of people would have noticed something if there was something that large living here. There are boats that cross here daily and yet none of them report anything.

Somehow, it's not reassuring.

Sixteen miles wide with the deepest sections being over a hundred meters is a large volume of water.

A _very_ large volume.

Asgard never had any lakes of this size. On Asgard, this might even have been enough to constitute being a sea.

There are rocks down here, some the size of boulders and behind one of them, obscured by a cluster of weeds, is a hole. It’s to Loki’s left, large enough for them to fit down if they swim one after the other, a hole that burrows into the lake’s bed and is so dark it demonstrates what blackness truly is.

It’s fortunate the hole is on Thor’s other side, the side furthest from him, because Loki is not going down that hole. He doesn't know how far down it goes or how deep or what could be lurking at the other side of it. Thor would go down it though. If he sees it there’d be no stopping him, he’d be so convinced they’d find something inside it he wouldn’t stop to consider any alternatives.

Distracting isn't the same as creating an outright lie, though some might disagree. Not Loki though; Loki has no qualms as he makes a sudden turn and points to the first lump of a shape he can see that's in the opposite direction. 

Thor follows and Loki very much hopes he hasn't pointed them in the direction of something worse.

It’s not something worse. It’s something… intriguing.

There are all these marks in the ground, all these scrapes in the soil like the current’s dragged the rocks over the years and something has been unearthed. Maybe it’s the result of a recent storm, maybe it’s the result of something caused by human activity, Loki doesn’t know, the only thing he knows is that the thing they’re looking at is incredibly old. 

It’s some kind of storage case, made of metal and complete with latches to seal it shut. It’s no larger than the kind of briefcases Loki has seen Midgardians carrying around and it’s of a similar shape too, rectangular and relatively flat.

There’s a layer of sludge that coats the underside and the metal on the surface has rusted with patches of something orange and green growing on it. Something imprinted in the centre has caught Thor’s attention; he’s reaching out, swimming closer, brushing his thumb over the marking.

As he rubs, a symbol is revealed. A vertical line with a diagonal cross in the centre. Iar, the rune is called, most often associated with new beginnings, dual natures, and, Loki recalls as Thor’s fingers grasp the handle, serpents. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to my fantastic new beta, [Auriferous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auriferous/profile). I'm so lucky to have found someone with both great beta skills _and_ a fantastic breadth of ocean knowledge.
> 
> Also, I thought I should probably give a warning that there's a decent chance I might not be able to update next Friday so the next update might end up having to be the Friday after that instead.


	5. Chronophobia: The Fear of The Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Loki and Thor find a box in Lake Lagarfljót they think may link to Jörmungandr

The lodge Thor has booked is sophisticated enough that Loki knows they won't be able to stay there for long, not unless they start getting some reimbursements soon.

It's all one level, a small wooden building with separate rooms and a small area to cook and eat in. Loki's room has a view of fields that look like seas of moss backdropped by a mountain range.

There's been an underlying current of anticipation that’s been slowly growing ever since they acquired the case from the lake. Loki isn't certain whether he should have gone along with Thor taking the storage case – if he hadn't then that would at best only prolong potentially finding something relevant to Jörmungandr, but if he _did_ allow it then that would make him an accomplice in this... whatever this is. It's a quest, he knows. It has all the relevant criteria, despite his sorely lacking enthusiasm.

But Thor isn't trying to kill Jörmungandr. It’s something Loki has to remind himself of. And in the unlikely event – something that seems to be becoming more and more likely the longer they stay here – of them actually finding the creature, all Thor has to do is not kill it and he will have already subverted the narrative of the mythology. 

Well, it _has_ happened before; Loki was never subjected to drips of venom before Ragnarok occurred, and he and Heimdall never killed each other as the tales claimed they would. But he did destroy Asgard just like the stories said, even if it wasn't out of maliciousness. Perhaps the same can be true of Thor and Jörmungandr. If the stories are either incredibly distorted or untrue to their fate at all, or at least very subject to interpretation, there are other ways, less literal ways this could end than with Thor and Jörmungandr killing each other.

Loki’s thoughts are halted by Thor placing the case on the table in their kitchen.

The box appears more fragile outside of the water than it did within it. It looks far from home here, whereas before it seemed to belong to that murky world, had been at one with it for so long it started to become part of it, embracing all the algae and rust to the extent that the case could have looked natural there if not for its dull gleam.

It's going to leave stains on the table, Loki knows that much. Thor's fingers are stained orange from coming into contact with the rust but Loki doesn't have it in him to bother saying anything. 

Thor reaches for the clasps, then he pauses, meeting Loki's eyes in a manner that's almost playful. "What do you think is in here?"

"Something disappointing, no doubt."

"I see you're as optimistic as ever."

"The likelihood of us happening to find precisely the exact thing to lead us to where you want to go on just our second dive – especially after our already unlikely coincidence on our first dive – is low." None of his words seem to appear to deter Thor so he carries on. "Why? What are you even hoping to find in there?"

Thor shrugs. "I don't know. Something."

"Hardly reassuring."

"Sometimes I feel like if I was to reassure you against every negative presumption you have, I'd never be able to stop talking."

There are very few people Loki would allow to say such a thing. 

"And can you?" Loki asks. "Are you ever able to stop talking?"

It's a weak retort, particularly given how frequent their silences are, but it makes Thor release a huff of mild – very mild – amusement all the same. "Very well, then. If you wanted me to stop talking and get on with opening the case, all you had to do was say so."

There's no smirk on Thor's face but Loki has no doubt that he knows precisely what he's doing, that he's effectively backed Loki into a corner where he has to either contradict himself or encourage Thor to proceed. 

Loki chooses neither but he can feel his scowl growing and Thor's mouth twitches with repressed laughter as he opens the latches. 

Miraculously, the inside of the case is dry. Odd. There's nothing to suggest particularly sophisticated sealing and how nothing inside is waterlogged or ruined by decay, Loki doesn't know. Not until he catches a glimpse of the marks that run around the perimeter of the interior of the box, that is. He doesn't recognise the specific meanings of the marks but the placement alone is enough that he can guess: this is the answer as to why there is no waterlog.

The box is empty aside from the book in the centre of it, brown and leatherbound. It looks fragile, as if the spine might crack and pages may fall out even with the gentlest of touches.

Thor reaches for the journal and Loki pulls back his arm.

“What?” Thor asks.

“Allow me.”

“I didn’t know you were so eager.”

“I’m not,” Loki says. “I just happen to be more likely to notice any enchantments or wards placed over it.”

He hasn’t noticed any wards beyond the one that protects it from water, but that’s besides the point. This way Loki can look at it first without Thor catching glimpses of it and he’ll cast an illusion over the text if he has to – he’ll do it if it mitigates finding Jörmungandr.

Or he _would_ do, only Thor has moved to stand right by his side, so close Loki can’t open the book without him being able to read the words, and now he’s noticed that Loki deems it acceptable to touch he’s got his finger resting on the cover. Thor touching it is something that’ll surely become a problem if there’s information within it Loki wants to disguise; Thor will notice when his fingers pass through or dispell an illusion, Loki will grant him credit for that much at least.

There's a soft creak from the leather as Loki opens the cover. Thor receives enough of the hint to move his hand to allow Loki to do it, but it still remains hovering inconveniently close.

Two words are on the first page inside, the letters formed by scrawling calligraphy: _Þrasi Þórólfsson_. The Allspeak isn't translating it and for that reason alone, Loki assumes the words must be the name of the book's owner. 

He turns another page, the paper soft beneath his fingers. It’s tempting to make it appear as if the rest of the journal is empty, only Thor’s resting his hand on it again and if Loki’s illusion is caught that’ll only make Thor more determined than ever to do this by himself. 

So Loki resists the urge.

This time there is an entire page that’s filled with the same script.

_The serpent is large enough to kill us all if only it wishes to do so. What is normally hidden in the depths of the lake has been disturbed by the growth in the number of trading boats that pass overhead. We have all heard the rumours of the monstrously-sized snake that dwells within those waters but it is quite another thing to see it with one's own eyes._

_The snake, I must confess, is very real._

_The villagers are concerned for their own safety, and quite rightly. It's simple enough to stay clear of the water but what happens when they lose trade with the nearby towns?_

_And thus, that is why I was summoned here._

_There are no warriors who are willing to battle against a creature we know whose fate lies in Thor's hands, and so slaying it is no viable option._

_Instead, we shall have to trap it._

Loki finishes reading the entry before Thor does.

“Trap?” Thor says, his brows furrowing. “How exactly…”

_There is a group of us, enough for us to constitute a team. I am not the only mage here; no, there is another one, one whose specialty is transmutation rather than enchantment. There are hardened mercenaries amongst us, sailors and sea captains who scorn the idea of us being afraid of such a creature. 'Only the length of a field?' they say, and it inevitably leads to them relaying stories they've heard from other seamen about a creature from the deep ocean with tentacles so large it can ensnare an entire ship in its arms._

_The meetings we have last eons and the conversations rapidly turn into arguments. The mercenaries think it superstitious to avoid slaying the monster due to the stories that surround it, but the rest of us disagree. All gods must die during Ragnarok and if this creature and Thor are to be the death of each other, what happens if the creature no longer exists and the cycle is broken?_

_We know it is of the utmost importance that we do not interfere where the Norns may be concerned. We are but men, not gods, and so we will do what we must to keep ourselves safe from the wrath of gods and monsters alike._

It’s only the second entry and already Loki is beginning to take a strong dislike to the journal’s owner. Not only is he a self-professed Migardian mage, a subset of humanity Loki has long since found he has many objections to, but he speaks of Thor’s death, of the deaths of all Asgardians, so offhandedly and with such finality, as if already certain of its inevitability.

_It has taken more than a week, but we have devised a plan of action. The sailors, those brave sailors, will steer the boat that lures Jörmungandr out of the lake and into the ocean. The mercenaries will be the ones who distribute the bait so we can capture the creature in a net and once we reach our destination our fellow mage will be the one to seal the trap._

_And so it falls to me to be the one to ensure no one who isn't fully informed about the ramifications of their actions can discover where Jörmungandr will be hidden._

_We are to begin enacting the plan when the sun next rises._

Jörmungandr. Not the Lagarfljót Worm. The author was explicit with regards to its name and if the text is taken at face value, that means Jörmungandr came before the worm did, or if not then the two narratives must have converged over time.

_We lost a mercenary to the waters. He was unfurling the buckets of meat we prepared to gain the attention of the monster and he must have leaned too far over the water for he is no longer with us. Those who were onboard recount how, beforehand, Jörmungandr remained too enamoured with its own feeding frenzy to bother attempting to attack their vessel, and so we assume one of our own men must have fallen in amongst the confusion of all the flesh in the water._

_They say they heard no screams._

_They say the Valkyries will take him to the halls of Valhalla, for he died protecting his people and his bravery will be remembered._

* * *

_We hope our actions have been worthy of our man's sacrifice._

_We were successful in trapping the monster in the iceberg._

_It is one that is well-known amongst the villagers near the shore of Greenland, one they say is exceedingly beautiful for the inside of it is a hollowed out crystalline cave._

_Today was the first time I saw the creature up close._

_It's not the size of it that haunts me, though the sheer size of it is enough to merit being haunted by; no, it is its eyes._

_It has intelligent eyes like no sea creature I have seen before._

“Odd,” Loki remarks. “That’s not a description I’ve come across before.”

“Neither have I.” Thor leans closer. “How close must this mage have gotten to actually be able to see its eyes?”

“Far closer than they would have been comfortable with, I’d imagine.” 

Loki turns another page.

_Loðmundur, my fellow mage, was successful in the sealing of the iceberg. He has a certain way with ice; he's able to make it accumulate from his fingertips and thus by doing so he was able to create a wall that barred the only passage into the iceberg._

_We shall have to see how firmly this method of containing the creature endures._

_Afterwards it will be my turn._

* * *

_We have been blessed more than I could have hoped for; the walls of the iceberg are thick enough that no thrashing of the creature is enough to cause them to crack._

_The iceberg is far north and for as long as the seas surrounding Greenland remain cold, we will be safe from Jörmungandr's return._

* * *

_Today I placed my ward. It will act as a deterrent to those who may come across the iceberg by happenstance. They will find their eyes will slide over the entirety of the surrounding area and the closer they get towards it the more reluctant they will be to pursue their path any further._

_It is, perhaps, the most ambitious bit of magic I have performed over such a large object and the exertion has left me exhausted._

_I am the only one of my group who reasons that should there come a day, perhaps when Ragnarok comes, when we know that in order to end the cycle Thor and Jörmungandr must meet, we may need to release Jörmungandr. It seems the mercenaries' ideologies have taken hold across our entire group more than I anticipated, for the best I was met with was ridicule and the worst I was met with is better left unsaid._

_They will surely throw me over the edge of our vessel if they discover what I have done, and yet I stand by my choices._

_None of them are literate and that is how I know I am safe to confess these words: I ensured the ward is breakable. I forced the will to break the ward into an object of my choosing._

_I am determined that no one should come across this object by accident and in order to achieve that, I have locked it inside of a case acquired from a locksmith, one that will open for nothing but its key. I would have created my own ward over the entirety of the case rather than only within it had my magic not been so drained, but my precautions should be sufficient._

_During one of our brief port of calls, I was able to pay a messenger with a handsome fee to deliver instructions to my wife who awaits me. The box is to be hidden behind Skógafoss. My wife will understand how to reach it; we share many fond memories of a thermal spring nearby._

_The key is to be hidden elsewhere, tied inside the hollow of a distinctive tree found in the Valley of Thieves._

_If the box and key are to be reunited, they will reveal to the unlocker where the iceberg is. I hope to pass this message beyond the ears of my sceptical peers, but must only disclose it to those trustworthy enough not to seek out the box and key without good reason._

_Until then, I will not impart my peers with that knowledge for they will surely see my actions as a betrayal._

It's the last entry. 

"Well then," Thor says in a tone bright enough to suggest he still hasn't paired the last entry with where they found the case and reached the same conclusion Loki has. "At least now we know where to go next." Loki's resulting stare must communicate his displeasure because Thor then adds, "I thought you'd be happy to hear we don't have to continue diving for a while."

"While it's preferable to not have to continue diving in that miserable lake anytime in the foreseeable future, I can't say I'm delighted, no."

"Are you ever?"

"It’s difficult to interpret this as a good sign."

"What? Us finding the case?"

"Yes," Loki says. "That." Among other things.

"It's a stroke of good luck. What are the odds of finding it during our first exploration of the lake?"

"Precisely."

Thor lets out a laugh. "You say that as if it is a bad thing."

"And you say that as if it is a _good_ thing."

Thor chuckles, then he wavers. "You always used to worry the most when everything was going according to plan. Or you’d worry even more when things would go even _better_ than we planned." His eyes should be a cold piercing blue but they are warm. "I see that part of you hasn't changed."

"I used to be concerned," Loki corrects, "because in the unlikely event of nothing untoward happening, it only meant that something worse would happen."

"Do you remember that time on Muspelheim?"

"There were, as I recall, multiple times on Muspelheim."

"I mean the time when the damage from Mjölnir caused the ground to open and we had to flee from the fire giant who thought we were disrupting the birth of its child."

"As I recall, I _had_ told you on multiple instances to avoid hitting the ground at all costs and you had, on multiple instances, done precisely the opposite."

Thor's smile turns sheepish. "On my part it was admittedly... not a great plan."

Loki's eyebrows raise. "Not a great plan?"

The smile drops. "Sometimes I'm surprised I didn't get us all killed. At least, not until much later." Whatever joy there was on his face isn't diminished anymore – it's eradicated. 

Silence drops like a stone. 

It wasn't Thor, Loki knows everything that happened – to Asgard, to its people, with Thanos, all of it – wasn't Thor's fault. And yet the fact remains that despite not all them being killed, most of them ended up dying one way or another and there is nothing Loki can say to make Thor stop looking like that, nothing he can do to make it any better, nothing but distract and divert his attention.

"How is Sif?" Loki asks. 

"Sif is..." Thor isn't smiling but neither does his expression resemble what it had done moments earlier. "I haven't spoken to her much since she found us on Midgard." He isn't meeting Loki's eyes. "I... I should have been the one to tell her. About what Hela did. To Volstagg. To Fandral. To Hogun." 

It's the first time Loki's heard Thor say their names since it happened.

"For what it's worth," Loki says in what he hopes is a gentle enough tone, "I think it's far likelier for her to pull her sword on you for indefinitely avoiding her rather than because you avoided having one very specific conversation with her."

There's a flicker at the corner of Thor's mouth. "There may be some wisdom to that."

* * *

Thor brings up the contents of the case again before they set out to buy food. 

"We'll need water flasks," he says. "And food that won't take up much space in our rucksacks. I'm not sure what the restrictions are for hunting in this country."

It takes Loki a couple of seconds to realise the implications: Thor wants to prepare them for a journey across Iceland to find the alleged box and key. 

Of course Thor wants to, Loki just wasn’t anticipating it being so _soon_.

Under any other circumstance, he would welcome the opportunity to suspend their journeys beneath the surface of the water, only it seems as of late that the more he tries to steer their course away from Jörmungandr, the closer they end up becoming.

Loki's already voiced his concerns about the purpose of their mission but his only real hope remains in sowing seeds of doubt about how they are doing it, to alter and divert their path. 

"What makes you think the journal is genuine?" Loki asks.

"Someone must have sealed it with magic somehow, you saw the case. Without magic the water would have ruined the pages long ago."

"You don't think you are underestimating Midgardian craftsmanship by making that assumption?"

The idea of it is enough to make Thor shift with discomfort before he dismisses the idea. "That wouldn't explain the contents of the journal." He sees the look on Loki's face. "Relax, brother. The sooner we find it, the sooner we can leave."

"I don't like how coincidental this all is. First the whale, now the case. You must admit the chances of either of these things occurring would be low, let alone _both_ of them."

"It's in my fate to encounter Jörmungandr at some point, no matter how you interpret the legends. I'm supposed to find it. It's not surprising we're coming closer to finding it and who knows, maybe the Norns themselves are tweaking things here and there as well."

"Oddly enough," Loki says, "I don't find that reassuring."

_He won't kill Jörmungandr_ , Loki thinks. He said he won't kill it, so how can the prophecy be fulfilled?

Only if, he realises, Thor kills it accidentally.

But Thor remains as undeterred as ever. "Don't you see how much of an opportunity this is?"

"An opportunity to do what, exactly?"

"I mean it's an opportunity for you. I know you have... concerns. Concerns that the humans won't accept you because of what you did to their world. It's an opportunity for you to start making amends."

The assumption would be viciously comical if Thor wasn't trying to be so sincere.

"Amends," Loki scorns. "Amends are the least of my concerns."

"You could even like Midgard if you actually tried to fit in here."

"Am I correct in assuming you're under the impression that chasing monsters is something most people do here? Because I assure you, on any realm but Asgard, it is far from the norm. If you're so desperate to make yourself not feel so different from the rest of this realm's inhabitants then I suggest you start with not, oh I don't know, demonstrating your blatantly inhuman powers. And then, once you've mastered the art of that, I'd much prefer it if you don't pretend that you did this on my account. All those reasons you listed – they apply to you far more than they do to me. You're the one who's so desperately trying to fit in here and it's making you miserable, you can't even go a day without drinking and yet you presume to offer _me_ advice on how to conduct myself."

Thor's not saying anything, not looking at him, not even moving.

"Well?" Loki demands. "How can you possibly justify–"

"I thought this would make me happy," Thor says, voice barely above a murmur.

Loki's breath catches in his throat. "What?"

"I thought coming here and giving myself something meaningful to do would make me happy." The line of Thor's mouth is grim. "It didn't. But there's a chance that by the end of this I'll have done something that's actually helped people. Jörmungandr will no longer be a threat or threatened and we can contact people who will know where we can relocate it.”

“I still don’t understand why you insist on wasting your energy on such a creature.”

Thor gives him a very meaningful look. “No,” he says. “You wouldn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being... two weeks late. I was finding this chapter a different one to write _before_ the global pandemic hit and my ability to concentrate ended up getting worse. Aiming to update every two weeks, but the quality of my writing might end up fluctuating due to my concentration fluctuating and I’d rather have chapters that are late than chapters that are on time but don’t match the quality set in the fic so far.


	6. Prosophobia: The Fear of Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Loki and Thor find a journal belonging to Þrasi Þórólfsson in which he details hiding a box and key that, if reunited, reveal the location of the iceberg where Jörmungandr was trapped. 
> 
> Loki and Thor investigate the following clue: _The box is to be hidden behind Skógafoss. My wife will understand how to reach it; we share many fond memories of a thermal spring nearby._

"Look," Thor says when Loki enters their shared living space. "About Skogafoss – I knew it sounded familiar. It's in one of the leaflets I got."

Loki stops opposite him. "With the amount of leaflets you hoarded, that hardly narrows it down."

Thor passes it over and _Skogafoss_ is written in large letters over the top. The way he hands the leaflet over is very un-Thor-like; in a time long past after giving a similar retort, Loki would have expected Thor to fling the leaflet in his general vicinity in a show of exaggerated exasperation rather than pass it with comparative tameness.

Loki glances at the paper. "A waterfall," he says. He needs nothing else to communicate his displeasure.

"One of the largest in Iceland, they say." Thor looks to him for a response but doesn’t receive one. “It also has one of the most famous legends.”

“Oh?”

“About Þrasi Þórólfsson. About him hiding some treasure behind the waterfall. It was mentioned in the museum we visited. I think the treasure from the legend and what we’re searching for is the same thing.”

Loki agrees with him but the last thing he wants to do is encourage him so he makes a generic hum that passes as a response as he skims past the photographs and eyes the map inside. "As much as I'd like to believe this is a joke of yours, I know how this works far too well by now and will just assume that it's a joke conjured by the Norns instead." Upon seeing the confusion on Thor's face, he elaborates: "We used who knows how much of our resources travelling from one side of the island to the other and now we have to return to almost the exact same place we left."

"It can't be helped."

"It _could_." And if Loki sounds slightly petulant in pointing it out then so be it. "So when do you intend to–" Through the doorway, Loki catches sight of the rucksack that sits outside Thor's room. "Ah."

"No point delaying."

"Is the situation that dire?"

"Why would it be dire?"

"Discounting the entire goose-chase with the sea serpent, I meant with your savings. I assume you would have at least mentioned it if you'd heard word about us receiving some sort of compensation."

"Oh. Well... I got a call."

"And?"

"They said they were considering it–"

"–to any person with a base understanding of being let down gently, that means they're rejecting–"

"–but that we'd need substantial evidence."

"How unreasonable. Not wanting to pay us until they're convinced we're neither con-artists nor have we misplaced our sanity." Loki gives Thor a pointed look. "Or what might remain of it."

"It isn't ideal. But we should be fully compensated once we find Jörmungandr and bring them evidence."

"You do realise there are far too many conditions for how this could end badly, don't you?"

"Jane recommended them. She wouldn't have done it if they weren't trustworthy."

"Their trustworthiness," Loki says, "should be the least of your concerns."

* * *

For the most part, their journey to Skogafoss follows a route that parallels the coast, a road whose path winds through valleys and mountains, grassy plains and long stretches of flatland.

The coach Thor manages to get them tickets for is one that departs at a ridiculous time in the morning. Its purpose is to traverse the Ring Road, a route that circles the outer edges of Iceland and passes many of its most famous locations. 

The coach is, thankfully, not full of people. Loki suspects it's due to the season that there aren't as many visitors as there could be, but that gives them the advantage of not having to squeeze together. Loki isn’t certain which would be worse – Thor tolerating being that close to him only on account of being forced to, or being forced into close confines with strangers.

Loki enters before Thor does, electing a window seat towards the centre of the coach. Thor sits one row in front and Loki finds himself blinking at the back of his chair before distracting himself with the view outside.

It is easy for his mind to wander here; many of the sights are pleasing to the eye. There is nothing either he or Thor can do about the coach stopping at popular destinations to let its passengers experience them, but it makes what would have been a journey spanning half the day turn into a journey that spans all of it. 

One of the stops is a lagoon that contains countless floating icebergs and seals, another a beach of black sand that has hundreds or even thousands of washed up fragments of ice on its shore, chunks of icebergs from the ocean with sections ranging from large enough to climb upon to so small they are left lying on the sand like shards of glass discarded by the waves. There is a second beach they visit, another one with the startlingly black sand – startling for Midgard, that is – only this one has unusual rock formations instead of ice, structures that have naturally formed in its cliffs that give them the appearance of being composed out of thousands and thousands of cuboidal tower-like structures. Out to sea, there are five tall pointed rocks the waves crash against, so violent in contrast to the waves that reach the shore.

By the time they are leaving, the sun is beginning to dwindle and what had been occasional droplets of rain has turned to drizzle before they return to the warmth and dryness of the coach.

"Thor," Loki begins. Thor turns around, peering over the top of the seat. "Enlighten me. Where will we be staying this time?"

"That depends. If we find the chest we're looking for today then we won't need to stay here at all."

"And if we don't find anything?"

The shifting of Thor's eyes lasts for less than a fraction of a second but Loki knows what it signifies: sheepishness or guilt or a reluctance to admit something. He hopes it isn't a combination of all three. 

"If we don't find anything," Thor replies, "then we'll need to visit an outdoors shop."

The lack of a mention of overnight accommodations does not bode well. And neither, Loki thinks, does the mention of an outdoors shop. 

"We're already having to resort to camping?"

Thor puts a hand to steady the seat that begins to vibrate ever so slightly as the coach's engine turns on. "It's only if we don't find it. And besides, it's not like we _have_ to at this point."

Loki remains sceptical. "Then why are we?"

"I thought it'd be better to save money for when we need to travel further afield rather than spending them for overnight stays."

"And just how many times do you think we'll be needing to cross the country?"

“I don’t know Loki. I really don’t.”

* * *

Skogafoss is heaving almost as much as the previous beach they visited was. The place has tourists scrambling all over it, like a plague of locusts that has descended upon the land, only rather than flying they're all taking their leisurely strolls with their cameras at the ready and raincoats draped around them.

It's almost repulsive that, for now, they are having to disguise themselves amongst them – not that Thor appears opposed to it, ambling along the path contently enough. 

The path that leads to the waterfall is a well-trodden one and the approach to it is remarkably flat; it gives the waterfall the appearance of having been cut out of the landscape, as if there is a chunk of missing earth that spans for miles in front of it.

The waterfall is visible even from the road, though from afar the sheer scale of it isn’t obvious, and it's not until they get closer that it becomes audible. It's loud, thunderously loud, and it falls with such force that there's a constant barrage of white spray as it meets the river below it. Looking at it is enough to realise why whichever treasure was supposed to be behind it – or nearby, as the journal revealed the case may be – never had a trace of it found, unless there’s credibility to the stories about a broken off chest handle being discovered hundreds of years after the mage’s death.

Skogafoss Waterfall is tall. Higher than Loki anticipated, the water drops off at a point so high up he has to crane his head to see the top of it, and it doesn't lack width either, stretching across the distance between two hills. There's something familiar about the sight of the water flowing over the edge in such vast quantities, the raw power and the sheer ferocity of its strength that makes Loki's stomach twinge. 

It was Asgard. The grandest waterfall in all the Nine Realms ran off the edge of Asgard. The structure of the waterfall here is remarkably similar, only on a smaller scale, and the fall of the water off of Asgard had no thundering, only the quiet dissipation of falling into the void. 

Thor nods ahead of them, to the tourists who are queuing to get closer to where the water lands, to stand close enough to be caught in the spray, their coats zipped up tight. "Shall we?"

Loki neither agrees nor disagrees and therefore they join the hoards. 

* * *

They are climbing hundreds of wooden steps uphill to one side of the waterfall when it becomes quiet enough for it to be worth attempting to speak to each other again.

"Look!" Thor shouts out, his voice filled with excitement. Loki turns to where he is pointing. "A rainbow!" 

It is formed in the meters of spray that hovers like a constant cloud where the water collides with the river.

Any snide comment Loki was about to make is destroyed by the look on Thor's face, the look of wonder and joy that is so seldom now. 

"So it is," Loki responds instead.

"I can't remember the last time I saw one. It's... nice. It makes a nice change." 

Loki glances at it again. It has an undeniable beauty, but beauty is something he so rarely has the time to notice. 

"When we get to the top," Thor begins, slightly out of breath as they continue to climb up the steps, "can we take a moment to just… sit?"

"Even with it getting as dark as it is?"

"We can still attempt to find the hidden chest during the night, can't we?"

"Stumbling around in the dark isn't exactly going to be effective."

"No. Probably not. But what if we see an aurora? I hear it's a sight to rival that of the view from Asgard's observatory."

There is a slight pause then, not one that's filled entirely with grief or loss, but a tentative one in which they look at each other to attempt to gauge the other's response. 

Hesitation is an improvement from mourning, Loki concludes, and while Thor certainly isn’t smiling, he doesn’t have the look of someone who might fall to pieces at any moment.

"Have it your way then," Loki relents.

A faint smile appears on Thor’s face. 

* * *

"Now," Thor says later that evening as they make their way on foot further north, "I've done some research and–"

Loki pretends to be startled. "You've conducted research?"

"Very funny, Loki,"

"You must admit, the idea of you voluntarily doing research – not just once, but multiple times now – is somewhat out of the ordinary."

"I've always been capable, I just never used to have the motivation, not with my old ways and how you always used to fulfil that role."

"Are you suggesting it was _my_ fault it always happened that way?"

"Not exactly. Well. Not intentionally.” The sheepish smile makes another appearance.“ Anyway, I checked and there aren't any hot springs marked on any official maps within this area that could match the description from the journal, but there are some unofficial ones."

"Unofficial hot springs? Ah. You mean ones whose location isn’t disclosed to the general public." Loki stops talking and frowns. "How did you discover where they are within less than a day?"

"The internet," Thor responds. "They have forums."

* * *

The sight of it is ridiculous. Thor is consulting with the map on his phone, holding the device as if it's some sort of compass. 

Loki doesn’t want to think too much on the legitimacy of the origins of the map, so instead he asks, "How far should it be?"

"It says here it takes around an hour to walk there from Skogafoss. Maybe two for newcomers."

Their path gets steeper as they hike deeper into hillier regions the more northwards they venture. The sky is nearing black and there are too many clouds to see many stars, let alone the aurora. It's something Loki finds very odd about Midgard: the lack of stars and visible nebulae in the sky, how empty it must look to them night after night. 

There is barely any noise here – no roar of vehicles on the road or the background humming of electricity, just their footsteps on the grass that is beginning to crisp as frost forms.

Loki knows little about the spring they are searching for other than it will look like a pond or stream and is deep enough to sit in. 

Even though the darkness masks what would most likely be a view that would allow them to see for miles and miles around, it also makes it far more difficult to spot anything and for that Loki is grateful. The sooner they find what they are looking for, the sooner they will resume their search for Jörmungandr and for that reason, he’s prepared to allow the finding of the chest to last far longer than it should do.

"There," Thor says. He’s not speaking loudly but the sound startles Loki anyway. "I can see water."

* * *

"My most sincere congratulations, Thor," Loki says. "You successfully navigated us towards a large puddle."

"I'd like to see you do better."

And just when Loki starts thinking about how fantastic that would be, how convenient it would be for Thor to hand him the digital map they're supposed to be following and for Loki to navigate them anywhere but where they're supposed to be heading, Thor realises his error.

"Oh. We were supposed to turn left at the last fork in the path, not continue straight on."

Much to Loki's disappointment, this time Thor's navigation appears to be successful. He spots the glimmer of steam hovering over a barely distinguishable patch of water before Thor does and he's able to conceal it, placing a glamour over it so it’s camouflaged with its surroundings, appearing as nothing more than a patch of grass. 

"Odd," Thor mumbles to himself. "It's supposed to be right here."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes." Thor frowns. "Mostly."

"It could’ve been the last fork we were supposed to turn left, not this one. Look." Loki takes the phone from Thor and points to a route that certainly won’t result in them finding the hot spring "The contours on this map don't look like they match the valley we've just walked through. There's not enough steepness for one thing and–"

"But look at the photos people have posted in the thread. It's here. The hills in front of us are exactly the same." Thor zooms in on the image and holds up the phone, taking a moment to align it with silhouettes of the mountains. "See? It matches."

Loki silently curses Thor's tendency to only not be susceptible to falling for his tricks at the least convenient moment possible.

"Loki?"

Loki waits for it, the accusation of his deliberate sabotage, for Thor to elect to continue alone, but instead all Thor says is, "Do you think this is the mage's doing?

It takes a certain amount of effort to force his relief to steer clear of his face. Loki nods solemnly. "It could well be."

"Then we'll have to break the spell. But wait – if all these people were able to find the hot spring before us.."

It becomes necessary to step in before Thor realises the fallacy of his logic. "Perhaps an enchantment here was triggered by Ragnarok. The mage did believe that would be the only time it might become necessary for someone to find Jörmungandr, after all."

"Yes. You may be right." Thor’s eye twinkles. "I knew I let you come for a reason."

There is a distinctive twinge in Loki’s stomach, only it can’t be there because he can’t go and start feeling _guilty_ , not when he’s the one who’s supposed to be attempting to keep Thor safe.

* * *

Thor is more active than Loki has seen him in days, weeks, months. He's walking systematically over the entire area, combing over every small detail that could reveal any obscure sort of clue, picking up rocks and stones, searching inside of burrows, even taking a moment to analyse inconsequential things like leaves on the ground. Loki doesn't know what he's expecting to find – perhaps a tree enchanted to grow leaves whose lines denote a hidden message, or some kind of talking animal that has been waiting for him all these years. 

And because of that, because of Thor's relentless determination that there must be something to find, Thor's bound to stumble through his illusion eventually and Loki now has to be the one to provide him with something.

The size of the things Thor is inspecting have increased too – he's exhausted the supply of rocks now and he's turned his attention to more sizable obstacles, picking up boulders half his size, ones that are alarmingly close to where the hot spring is.

Loki squints at Thor's latest prize. "Isn't that a little on the large size?"

"It's not heavy."

"You're forgetting this mage was Midgardian."

"Maybe he used his magic so he'd be able to pick it up."

"You're forgetting that enchantment was his specialisation, Thor. Transmutation wasn't really his area."

"Fine. But since magic is much more your area than mine, can you at least offer some suggestions instead of standing there criticising everything I do?"

Loki attempts to force the tension out of his jaw. He is unsuccessful but at least it allowed him time to plot the next delay. “The mage wanted you – specifically _you_ – to be able to find Jörmungandr, which means he knew there would be a possibility of you coming here.”

“I’m with you so far.”

“So,” Loki continues, “how could he distinguish you from anyone else who might stumble across this area?”

“I… I don’t know. My blood?”

“How would the mage know what to look for in your blood? He likely never so much as met an Asgardian, let alone studied their blood.”

“Then I don’t follow.”

“Really?”

“I’m no mage, I’ve no idea what he’d need.”

Loki lets out a sigh. “You’re going to kick yourself when you realise.”

“Just cut to the chase.”

“Is it really necessary for me to need to remind you what you’re the god of?”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.”

“It’s just… I haven’t needed to conjure anything in I don’t know how long.”

“I doubt your power has decided to move elsewhere after your neglect.”

Thor looks stricken. “They can do that?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Right.” Thor draws in a breath. “So I just…”

Loki does not envy the task he’s about to grant Thor. “Be precise with your strike,” he advises. “If you hit whichever spot the mage enchanted, I’m sure something will happen.” He neglects to mention just how many hundreds of possible spots there are surrounding them.

“How will I know which spot to hit?”

“Since you’ve not been able to find anything, you’ll have to guess.”

“That could take ages.”

“We could be here all night,” Loki says, trying not to sound too happy about it.

Thor shuts his eyes, hard enough to form furrows. 

The clouds begin to draw closer, diminishing the light from the moon, and the air hums with static until Loki can practically taste it. 

The flash of lightning comes before the impact, bright and sudden and striking a fallen log that sits little more than a handful of feet away from the area Loki is masking. 

It’s close, dangerously close. So close it requires intervention, but the charge in the air is rising once again. 

“Work your way outwards,” Loki guides, gesturing with a hand in the opposite direction. “This is something that should be done systematically.” 

Thor nods but there’s no way of telling if he’s taken notice. Still, the chances of him striking precisely that one place Loki doesn’t want him to so early on is minuscule. 

One of Thor’s arms reaches out as he reseals his eyes shut, only the arm isn’t aiming towards where Loki attempted to steer him, it’s precisely where he doesn’t want him to touch. 

Thor opens his eyes.

"Thor, don't–"

The crack of lightning drowns out Loki's voice.

It is instantaneous and there is another crack when it pierces through Loki’s illusion and hits the ground. The second crack is a dull one that resonates differently, shortly followed by a gurgling akin to water being pulled down a drain. 

"Thor." Loki creeps towards the hot spring. "What did you..." 

There is a visible line where the water level would usually lie, only the water is getting lower and lower. 

"Well," Thor says as they both remain staring at the slowly depleting spring. "At least we didn't do this in daylight."

"Maybe you should–"

"I'll uh... I'll refill it," Thor says. "At some point. Somehow." After being on the receiving end of Loki's incredulity, Thor adds, "I hope."

And it's wonderful, just _wonderful_ that they've been in Skogafoss for less than a day and already they – or rather Thor, Loki can completely blame Thor for this – have managed to drain an entire habitat. 

The remaining water is gone remarkably quickly, guzzling through the gap that's visible in the ground, one that runs between the stones at the bottom that were on the receiving end of Thor's lightning.

Thor leaps into the hole. "Coming?" He examines the gap. "There's a passage below here that looks promising."

Loki joins him and eyes the black space Thor is pointing to. "Promising isn't the word I'd use."

"And yet," Thor says with a small smile, "you're following me anyway."

"Oh – you think that's a good thing, do you?"

"Should I not?"

"It's not something that bodes well, the fact that even _I_ think this is madness."

“Madness never stopped you.” Thor half-smiles. “But it never stopped you from complaining either.”

* * *

It's unfortunate that the way into the passage requires squeezing down the gap in between two rocks, both of which are covered in residues of mud and are still dripping with water. The squeeze requires Loki to use the shaft like some sort of chimney, pressing against one of the walls with his back and using it as leverage to walk his feet down on the opposite wall so he doesn’t fall. 

The rock is slippery and there's a quiet splash as he reaches the bottom, one that signifies that the water here must have drained elsewhere quickly because there's only a shallow level remaining, less than an inch thick.

Loki is surrounded on all sides but above by stone and there's no sign of the tunnel leading anywhere else, no sign of Thor, only–

A boot. 

_Thor's_ boot, very much still attached to his legs, obscured by an overhanging rock.

As Loki crouches, he’s able to see the passage that leads on. Thor is waiting for him, having to be on all fours to fit between the floor and roof of the tunnel. The passage descends, wide enough to fit no more than one person at a time, and Loki is in place behind Thor, his vision dominated by his boots.

"Uh... Loki?"

Loki fears the worst. "What is it? What have you found?"

"It's dark."

"I thought that much was obvious."

"No – I mean I can't see. Would you mind..."

Ah. They didn't bring any torches, did they? 

The illusion of light Loki conjures hovers at the ceiling, floating in orb form. He makes the glow gentle, translucent, so they aren’t blinded by its proximity and don’t have their vision confused by any stark shadows caused by it.

The ground is still wet. Years and years of water having been floating above it have left it accustomed to such conditions, and the place is oddly warm, the air strangely humid in contrast to the outside climate.

There’s a layer of mud and residues of puddled water beneath him, filling in the dips and pockets within the limestone, and it's something Loki deeply regrets when the cave roof is so low he has to lie so he’s almost flat in order to advance forwards and his hands start sinking right into it. 

They can hear the echoes of the water further ahead, though whether it is the sound of it draining or something else remains to be determined. 

"Thor..." Loki says slowly.

"Mm?"

"All that water... Where do you think it went?"

"Below us somewhere, I'd expect."

"Yes, I managed to get that far myself." Loki pauses. "But if it hasn't drained out of the cave yet or if there's some kind of splashback or any extra water from a different source that fills the cave..."

"We won't drown," Thor promises. "I won't let it."

"Won't let it? How can you possibly guarantee that you'll be in any position to do that? We're in a cave that's presumably been left unexplored for who knows how long–"

"We're not that far underground–"

"Not _yet_.”

"And even if something terrible was to happen like the roof collapsing, I'm strong enough to–"

"Punch your way out?" Loki suggests. "See, if we _were_ to be trapped, your brute force would be to blame in the first place.”

"Then I'd punch my way out carefully."

Loki unleashes a sigh that's a combination of both fondness and exasperation. "You'd punch your way out carefully? Clearly, we have very different definitions of the word because I would've thought it impossible."

"I've stopped thinking too much about what is and what isn't possible."

“Yes. That much is evident.” 

Minutes pass, filled with nothing but the sound of shuffling as they crawl forearm over forearm, the pebbles and stones pressing into Loki's limbs and knees as he does so.

"Oh," Thor says, just as a stone jutting from the ceiling scrapes against the top of Loki's head, "watch out for–"

"A sharp bit of rock?" Loki finishes.

There is a pause. 

"Ah," Thor says. “... Yes.”

* * *

The tunnel becomes lower before it widens again. It forces them to go from almost lying flat to having to drag themselves forwards by lying on their fronts, barely able to move their heads enough to look in front of them. 

Mud is covering Loki's hands and is all over his clothing and the fabric has absorbed some of the water here as well while bits of dirt are starting to dry on his face.

Overall, he is not impressed. He is not impressed but he'll take this any day over an expanse of bottomless water beneath him. Cave exploration isn’t exactly new to them, not with all the lairs they entered during their youth. 

There is a very awkward manoeuvre at the end of the passage. Thor insists Loki goes first because it involves having to turn around and squeeze his way up an opening above them and it rests at an angle that is practically perpendicular to their positions on the ground before it inverts. 

"What's it like?" Thor asks from below. 

Loki emerges and gets to his feet. He is able to stand, though the roof is low enough that he can’t stand straight.

"Better," is Loki's verdict. "Much better."

It's dryer here too now that it's higher up, though it’s not completely dry. The dampness hasn’t disappeared and there are still droplets of liquid that drip from minuscule stalactites on the cave roof; some of them are singular whereas others are in rows, entire curtains of them, the rock made shiny by years of polishing with the passing of water.

Thor emerges not too long after and when he sees Loki's face he immediately bursts into laughter.

The sounds of it makes Loki jolt – not with panic, but with a sense of disbelief because he can’t remember the last time he heard Thor laugh so vividly. The sound of it is raw and sweet in a way that makes his bones ache but Loki lets the warmth fill him anyway and when it's over, when Thor's laughter has subsided, he says, "I see your sense of humour has yet to evolve over the past millennium."

They reverse positions again and both of Loki’s shoulders scrape against the walls as he follows the tunnel further downwards at a steep incline, growing steadily colder as he does. 

Rushing water reaches the bottom of his boots. 

Then his knees.

Then his thighs.

He's having to fight his way through the current. The water is the kind of stinging cold that feels like it's slapping his thighs. The material between his leathers acts like a sponge that keeps the coldness of it pressed against his body. Even with careful treading, the rock is slippery and uneven and there’s a loud splash as one of Loki's feet misses the stone he thought was beneath him and he plunges deeper, the water coming up to his neck.

"Loki?" Thor has to raise his voice above the echoes of the running water. 

Loki makes his way back to an area where he can stand on higher ground and there are sloshes as Thor makes his way towards him, the water moving in rhythm as he wades. 

"Are you–"

"Yes, I'm fine, Thor."

"Are you certain?"

"Treacherous footing," Loki says. "That is all."

"I'm not sure how much deeper it'll get."

"Well, let me put it this way: if following you requires me to have my head underneath the water then I’ll be tempted to leave you on your own."

Thor looks almost offended. It's not as if they're going to encounter Jörmungandr here – this is one of the few places Loki would count on it since the mage set up this place to find a box which would eventually lead them to Jörmungandr, not the other way around. 

The wall, slimy though it is, is as good a place as any to brace a hand against in case he falls again.

They journey onwards but the deepest the water gets is another few inches and it's so cold he's certain the cave must have taken them further and further away from the warm area underneath the hot spring. 

Thor comes to a sudden standstill. When Loki reaches him he realises why. They are standing at the brink of a drop, one in which the water freely falls off the edge of and it's too dark to see all the way beneath them, too dark to tell how deep it goes. 

With a flick of his fingers, Loki directs the ball of light to fly to the bottom and the chamber is illuminated, its bright white light reflecting off the glistening columns and sections of wall that sparkle with crystalline fragments. There is an underground lake that sits at the centre of it all, and the drop is less height than the noise would suggest, the echo giving it the illusion of being deeper than it actually is. 

Thor peers over the edge. "Stand back. I'm going to jump."

"Is that really necessary?"

Thor jumps before Loki can say anything else and the sight of Thor jumping into water of an unknown depth makes his heart stutter until he reminds himself of the number of times Thor has survived uninjured falling from heights the size of mountains.

There is a loud splash and Thor emerges not too long after, bobbing in the water. "It's clear!" 

Loki ignores him, using the rocks off to one side as hand and footholds to begin to climb downwards, the slipperiness of them slowing his descent. 

One time, Loki reaches to feel for a hold that's less rounded, one that'll give him a more secure grip, and all he gets in return is icy cold water shooting down his sleeve, making him hiss. 

Still, he decides as he reaches the bottom, the cold isn't as bad as it would have been if he'd jumped. 

"This way," Thor shouts above the noise of the water, pointing towards an opening. 

It's not so low that they have to crawl, but low enough that they have to stoop and Loki is getting sick of this, sick of the way he keeps having to bend to avoid scraping the ceiling. 

At least the water was contained within chamber's lake though. Though now he comes to think of it… It’s odd how the roar of water has yet to cease. They've left the lake behind them, it should be getting quieter the further they walk away, not louder. 

He listens again. It's definitely getting louder. 

The brightness starts getting lighter, subtly at first, then not so subtly. They've reached a section in the passage with crumbling walls – they're not on the brink of collapse, but there are gaps like turrets in stone castles, formed by stones falling loose that allow them to see outside. 

It is dawn. The sun has cast purple and pink shadows across the sky and land and Loki recognises the exact shape of those hills. 

Skogafoss Waterfall. 

He steps closer towards the light so he is able to look downwards and below him there is a torrent of water that rushes so wildly it is white and frothing and there are trickles of streams from somewhere above them that spurts over their viewpoint. 

Thor takes a moment to stand besides Loki, eying the horizon. 

"Do you like it?" Thor asks quietly. 

"Like it?" Loki repeats. "Are you honestly asking me about the view?"

"And what if I am?"

Loki turns to look at him. "You never used to slow down enough to notice it."

"I've slowed," Thor says. "Maybe enough to start appreciating things I never did before."

Loki can't stand it when Thor looks at him like that, so earnest and pleading and as if he's waiting for something that Loki doesn't know how to give him. He's supposed to reply, there's this gap that lingers in the air that should be filled with his response, only no words come to mind.

Loki breaks the stare by resuming their journey.

They can't be far off finding it now, not when the stories claim Þórólfsson's treasure is directly behind the waterfall. It's best if he goes first, then he could at least attempt to hide it if they come across something, could delay finding the inevitable even further.

The passage winds upwards, getting narrower as it does so, and the gushing becomes louder and louder until the sheer volume alone sends tremors through the ground and now whenever Loki glances through a gap in the wall all he can see is the downpour of the waterfall, filling the entirety of the outside view with violent sprays of white water.

Then there is a dead end, a wall with no sign of being able to pass or work their way around, not unless...

Upwards. There is a route upwards, and the glimpse of another route that resumes higher up, only they'll have to get there first. 

Loki begins his ascent, finding appropriate holds in the rock well enough until the angle begins to overhang, a point at which he has to start resorting to jamming his hands in a large crack in the stone to use as leverage. It's slow work, particularly with how wet the rock is from the constant spray. 

There are no signs of Thor following him, though Loki has been far too focused on what’s above him to look downwards and the water would make it next to impossible to hear Thor anyway. 

One last heave to reach the ledge, then he’ll look down.

It's not an easy move to make – he has to attempt to grip a rounded undercling with both hands and use friction to smear his boots against a section of the wall in which there is nothing of use he can weight. The sheen of wetness on the rocks makes it more complicated and neither of his feet are able to provide much help so he has to resort to an inelegant scramble to ensure he won’t fall and have to climb all the way up again. 

There. A ledge. Loki looks below him to check he hasn’t left Thor behind and Thor is standing right below him, not bothering to have even begun to climb, his mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out. 

He's shouting, Loki realises, only the sound of the words is completely drowned out by the waterfall. And, he realises upon closer inspection, there's something in Thor's hands, something that resembles–

Loki curses.

Thor is waving a chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no it looks like I'm having to revert to *shudders* irregular updates. Thank you for your patience <3


	7. Atelophobia: The Fear of Not Being Good Enough

Daylight has past broken and they are making their way from the cave back to the main road, clothing wet and mud dried all over them.

Thor finds that he misses this – the ache in his muscles, the evidence of his struggle smeared across his skin, the content tiredness that comes from a day well spent. 

The sun rises with Loki by his side.

Joy might not come as easily or as intensely as it once did but Thor thinks this is close enough. Loki's complaining does slightly dampen the effect, but even that can't completely ruin it. 

"You do realise," Loki says, sending a scowl at the chest in Thor's arms, "that it would've been far more effective to have retrieved the key first rather than the chest, don't you?" Thor says nothing about the bite in his brother's voice. No doubt Loki's opinions on what constitutes a day well spent differ. "For instance," Loki continues, "that farce with going all the way back through the cave system with a large chest could have all been easily avoided if you'd only–"

"Loki..." Thor warns.

"You know how I _hate_ to inconvenience you with the burden of my logic."

They're getting nowhere. 

"Is that the road?" Thor asks.

"That's usually what the grey paths with the vehicles on them are called."

"Has anyone ever told you how much you resemble a bedraggled cat left out in the rain at times like this?"

"I might as well be. Look at me. I am _wet_ and _cold_ and covered in _filth_." And Loki looks so indignant and outraged that Thor has to work hard to suppress his laughter.

A snigger escapes. Loki, naturally, doesn't take it well. 

Thor gives up on any pretences. "You do look like quite a sight, brother."

Loki rolls his eyes. The exasperation and irritability are palpable but it's so delightfully Loki that it practically invites further provocation. Thor doesn't decline it. There was a time – multiple times, enough to lose count – when he thought he'd never get to see Loki again, any of his many sides, and he mourned for the loss of each of them, even the ones he despised or didn't understand. And afterwards, when Loki first came back, he was... distant. Barely speaking. Barely moving. Lost in his own thoughts. Every time Thor spoke it jolted him into alertness, but even then he still wasn't fully there at times, distracted by one thought or another or maybe nothing at all.

But Loki is here now. Fully awake, fully alert. The changes have been gradual but he's slowly become more and more recognisable, more like the Loki of Thor's memories. The return to almost normality is at its most noticeable when Loki is irritated, though. 

Having Loki like this is the most it's felt like truly having his brother back.

Thor is delighted. Of course he is. But delight and happiness are not one and the same thing; the hope rising in his chest is so tentative it hurts.

Moments later, Loki's pride makes an unmistakable return. It comes in the form of him placing an illusion over himself to mask the dirt once they reach the crowds around Skogafoss.

"Not extending the same courtesy to me?" Thor asks. Loki shoots him a look. Thor can't say if it's contempt or confusion or a mixture of the two. "You know we'll have less of a chance being picked up by the roadside with me looking like this."

Loki considers it for a moment. "Fine," he concedes. "But don't think of this as a reward."

Thor feels the magic spread over him, a thin layer of static that clings to his skin. The illusion takes care of his damp and messy appearance. 

"Thank you," Thor says.

Loki looks so taken aback it's insulting. 

* * *

It's not surprising that few are keen to allow two strangers into their vehicles once they reach the roadside, even if Loki's illusions do give them the appearance of looking presentable. It's even less surprising that the more agitated and miserable they – or rather, Loki – becomes, the more cars avoid them. 

They end up in the back of a four-wheel drive. Being able to identify it is a testimony to how long Thor has lived on Midgard, and even though he knows more about this realm than he ever did, he still doesn't know how much more it will take until it all starts feeling... fluent. It's not the right word, Thor knows, but it's the closest he can think of. He understands their language – all of their languages and all of their words and how to speak in coherent sentences – but there is so much more surrounding the context of it all that he isn't certain if he'll ever fully grasp it.

He was never gifted with Loki's intelligence, and Loki's shown no signs of taking an interest in Midgard. The few weeks Loki spent on Midgard after he first disappeared, the time when he plotted to bring the Chitauri, he seemed to have learned more about the realm than Thor did in his first half-year of living on Midgard. But that was Loki. He always did learn quickly. Relentlessly, at times, when he cared to. 

But not even Loki's illusions can do anything to disguise the smell of damp that sits on their skin and clothing.

It's not just any car – it's a family car. The mother and father sit in the front, their son in the back. 

He would've much preferred it if Loki had deigned to enter the car first, but he remained aloof, hanging back to force Thor into doing it. So now Thor's had no option but to occupy the middle seat, at risk of squashing not only one but two people. One of which is a child.

"Thank you," Thor addresses the parents, reaching to buckle his seatbelt. "Really." 

They do a commendable job of pretending not to notice the smell that lingers on them.

"Where are you heading?" the mother asks from behind the wheel.

"That is... a good question."

“That is…” the mother says jokingly, “not a good answer. How about we drop you off at a town we’ll be passing through, how's that sound?"

"Wonderful."

The engine starts. Thor does his best to smile at the child, but the child is disproportionately alarmed by his beard and dreadlocks.

The disappointment comes unanticipated. Thor used to be good at this. At making people smile – especially young ones like this. He remembers children making an entire game out of having him hurl them onto pillows after feasts in the palace. 

Maybe this is another skill he's lost over the last handful of years. 

The child doesn't seem to have the same objections to Loki though. The boy keeps leaning to peer behind Thor to watch. 

Loki observes the two of them, how tightly Thor's holding himself. Then he makes an image of sparks flying from his fingertips, just for a second. 

The boy gapes.

Thor can’t tell if Loki’s smirking or if he’s genuinely enjoying the moment.

* * *

The town is small. Its size reminds Thor of New Asgard in many ways, but the little details like the sheer amount of churches and meadows and brightly coloured rooftops make it distinct. Also, sheep. Lots and lots of sheep.

"Can we at least get clean before going?" Loki demands.

_Ah, Loki_. Thor's lost count of the number of times the phrase has crossed his mind recently. Sometimes exasperated, sometimes sad, sometimes weary, but never without fondness. 

"I don't intend to stop here for long."

Loki looks pained. "And why not?"

Thor waves his phone. "I started looking up this Valley of Thieves place the journal entry mentioned."

"And?"

"And there's nothing cryptic about it, not like with the hidden hot spring."

Loki's jaw is tight. No doubt the impending lack of washing facilities is playing on his mind. "What's the plan, then?"

"No caves," Thor promises. "No lakes to go into, and no seas neither."

"Then what?"

"It's part of a hiking route. Kjolur, it's called."

"What kind of route is it?"

“It’s supposed to be a good one, actually. Lots of experienced hikers have walked it.”

“How long is it?”

“Thirty miles,” Thor replies. “Approximately.” Loki says nothing so Thor continues. “It goes between the mountains that separate the north and the south. There are plenty of stories about smugglers using it, which is where its name comes from.”

"So," Loki says after a long moment. "That's where we'll be going next, then. Northwards."

Honestly. By his expression, it's as if Thor's announced something terrible. Thor thought he’d like this, it’s far less messy than any of the other activities they’ve done here. "Is something wrong?"

"Of course not," Loki says, but there's a certain tightness to the words.

"Are you sure? Because–"

"Nothing is the matter."

Thor knows better than to argue with that look.

* * *

They're looking up bus times when it happens: Thor gets a phone call.

Initially, the noise catches him off guard. When he picks it up there is a voice at the other end: "Is this Mr Thor Odinson?"

Thor hesitates. It's still strange to hear his name in full and for there to be no other titles attached to it, no prince or king, no mention of the Nine Realms. _Thor, protector of nothing_. He won't let that be true, not anymore. Thanos was both the start and end of it. 

"Yes?" Thor answers.

"This is Magnus from the Archeologist’s Association. You contacted us earlier in the week about your claims of finding..."

"Jörmungandr."

"Yes," the voice says. "I can't offer you anything regarding that search, I'm afraid."

"Oh." 

"But I _can_ offer you something else." The man – Magnus – doesn't wait for his response. "You mentioned you found an object that belonged to Þrasi Þórólfsson. His journal."

"That's right."

"We would be very interested in seeing that. The mystery of the treasure of Skogafoss has been around for centuries, as have the stories surrounding Þórólfsson. I... I can't begin to describe the cultural significance this could have, how much this could save our museums. It would be a shining piece of good news in the midst of... well, everything that's happened over the last half a decade."

Thor hesitates. They already found the treasure behind the waterfall. Shouldn't he mention...? Maybe not. Not yet, anyway. "I'm sure it would be excellent news," Thor says carefully.

"We'd like to meet with you so we can appraise the items in person and verify if they are legitimate. I trust you've taken the necessary precautions to preserve them?"

"Uh..."

"Mr Odinson," the voice says. The cordialness is replaced with sudden seriousness. "If these items are what we think they could be, it is of the utmost importance that they are kept in as a good condition as possible. They mustn't be touched with bare skin, must be kept away from exposed sunlight and in dry conditions, they– Well, basically they mustn't be handled in any way that could cause deterioration or weathering."

A beat passes. "Right," Thor says.

"Can I ask... Where are the items now?"

"Safe." It's not a lie. "Not in danger of any weathering."

"Well... Good." Magnus still doesn't sound convinced. "We can take a look at it when we meet, anyway. And if the item is genuine, I'd like to make you an offer. For the artefacts you've located so far, and for whatever other relics you might find. How does that sound?"

"Fantastic," Thor says. "That would be fantastic."

* * *

"Loki," Thor says. "You can look a little less miserable now."

"I don't need your permission, Thor."

Sometimes it's as if Loki's determined to pay him back in kind by making himself as miserable as possible. 

"I have good news. Someone's going to fund us. We're meeting them tomorrow."

For some reason, learning this doesn’t please Loki. His lips tilt upwards but his eyes remain cold.

“What?” Thor asks.

“Everything’s going _right_.” Loki spits out the last word.

“Some of us,” Thor says, “don’t take that as a bad omen.”

Loki opens his mouth. Thor prepares himself for the onslaught of arguments but all that happens is Loki closes it again and shakes his head with exhausted weariness.

* * *

The journal gets examined after they eat and relocate. Everything is controlled – the lighting, the moisture in the air, the gloves on Magnus’s hands.

“I don’t believe it,” Magnus says with a large impish grin after examining the paper with an eyepiece. “This might actually be a genuine find.” His hands are shaking with excitement. “I’ll need to confer with some of my colleges at the university and museum first but…” He trails off as he notices something that is definitely a grease stain from Thor's fingertips on one of the pages. Thor shifts in his seat, the chair creaking as he does so. 

It doesn't escape Thor's attention how often Magnus keeps trying to persuade him to pursue Þórólfsson rather than Jörmungandr, but that’s not what Thor’s here for.

Thor gets money for the meeting – not the full amount, that'll come once it's verified, but it's still more of a substantial amount than he'd hoped for. Payment in advance. Now that's something Thor can get behind. Especially if getting a warm room with a shower for the night stops Loki complaining.

They come to an arrangement. The museum gets the journal for inspection, as well as the case they found it in. In return, they'll give him a grant – a grant with further instalments that'll come with more findings and verification. 

Excellent. They can even have the chest once Thor's found Jörmungandr and doesn't need it any longer, it's not as if they know he's already found additional items and is already on the trail to find more.

If Loki was here, he’d be making the most of this. He’d be ensuring they get paid even more than they deserve. Thor could sit here negotiating an amount Magnus would never think they’d ever need to pay them but in the end the idea leaves his mind as quickly as it entered. If they find enough to lead them to Jörmungandr then they won’t need the money because they won’t need to stay here in the first place. They have a house of their own waiting for them back in New Asgard. 

It’s almost enough to make Thor wish they’d be staying here for longer.

* * *

It hasn't escaped Thor's attention that Loki's mood has inexplicably worsened. He'd thought a shower and a long night's rest would help alleviate it but it only seems to have further declined since preparing for their next journey. 

Hours earlier, Loki had gotten so sullen and snippish it was tempting to leave him behind, left to fend for himself in his room. 

But Thor can't do it. Sometimes it feels as if the instant he turns his back Loki could be gone and he doesn't know what he'd do if he went out and Loki had vanished by the time he came back.

It'll feel like another trick of fate, their taunting by way of taking away his brother then giving him back, then taking him away again, all in a vicious cycle, like a cruel game only the gods of the gods can play.

It's for that reason Thor persuades Loki to accompany him to the outdoor shop. Persuading may not be the accurate term; their room was only hired for a single night. There aren't many other places for him to go.

Thor takes the care to be frugal, but even so, the cost mounts. One tent. Two sleeping bags. Crampons. Waterproofs and fleeces. A map. Water bottles, food, and lighters just in case.

Loki remains, lurking behind him like a sullen shadow. 

Thor can't figure it out. Loki has talked to him more within the past few days than all the weeks after he'd returned combined. He thought it was a good thing that Loki was finally talking – actually _talking_ – to him, that his presence slowly started feeling more permanent. Not fully, of course never fully, but significantly closer to being so than it used to be.

But now there is this. This... sulking. Thor doesn't know what else to call it. The further they progress, the more it intensifies. 

But if telling Loki that he won't force him to remain here, that he is his own free person and Thor won't keep him locked up like a caged animal just because he wants his brother back didn't do the trick last time then Thor doesn't know what will.

It's better than silence. Thor knows that much. Anything is better than the silence. 

* * *

"I don't like it, Thor," Loki says.

"Is there any part of this that you _have_ liked?"

"I meant the smell."

The place does have a certain... stench. It’s unpleasantly akin to rotting eggs, but that doesn't stop the tourists that loiter here. 

Thor chuckles.

The ground here is a startling contrast to the southern side of the island. There's no grass, no black sand, no ice or water. It would belong better in a desert. It's a yellow-ish brown, dried out so much that there are thousands of cracks like broken cobwebs that run through it. Interlaced throughout are pockets of water, so hot they're bubbling. 

There's a path composed out of planks of wood to cross the ground and entire areas are closed off with rails. Little wonder why – the ground is so hot it _steams_.

"I thought this was supposed to be a secluded route between the mountains," Loki comments.

"It is." Thor takes a moment to correct himself. "Or it will be, anyway. Kjölur is only minutes from the pass and is only the starting point for where we're heading."

"Well thank goodness for that. What are they all here for, anyway?"

The answer reveals itself soon enough. From one of the openings in the ground behind the rails, water suddenly shoots upwards, rising twice, three times the size of them. It's maintained there, bubbling like a fountain and sending splatters of boiling water out. There are excited cries and fingers point to it as phones come out of pockets. Then, as quickly as the water appeared, it retreats again.

"You didn't tell me there were geysers here," Loki accuses. 

"You didn't ask."

Loki shoots him a look.

"What?" Thor asks. "Would you rather I ruin all the surprises?"

Loki grumbles something unintelligible.

Thor grins. "What was that, Loki? I couldn't hear you over the sound of your own mumbling. Was that you trying to admit that I had the right way of it?"

Loki points a finger. "Thor," he says. "Do _not_."

Thor enjoys that immensely.

* * *

It isn't long until they are on their own again. Their route is set to take them south, through the valley between where the two mountains meet. 

There are huts along the way, stationed high up at intervals; Thor has their locations marked on the map they carry. 

The air is crisp with cold but it's energising rather than unpleasant and it's nice to feel the sun on his skin. 

Too long. It's been too long since he's done something like this. 

Of course, he knows precisely why it's been so long. His usual companions, up until very recently, have all been... gone. And now Loki is back and it's wonderful that he's here, Thor would never complain about it because Loki is alive and present and Thor could never ask for anything again because even though he couldn't save Asgard he could still save its people, he even got to see Frigga again.

Before Loki's return, not a day passed in which Thor didn't think of it. Joy didn’t feel the same and Thor didn’t fight it. And when he learned they could bring the victims of Thanos back... He thought it would make everything fine again. The universe. The world. Himself. 

It didn't. 

And if having Loki back – the one thing he missed most in the world – didn't fix him, then what would? 

What did it say about him that Loki being back still wasn't enough? 

There are things Loki should never know. This is one of them. 

For all Thor's claims of loving his brother, having him back still doesn't make him happy. Happier than without him, for a certainty. But still not enough. 

It's far better now than it was during those first few weeks of being together. Thor has a purpose now – and more importantly, so does Loki. They have a mutual goal, something they can both work towards, and something this world will benefit from. They have the opportunity to do something good.

Thor spent five years doing very little other than drinking and occupying himself with whatever activities required the least energy and would distract him the most.

Some king he was. 

Whenever Odin asked what kind of king Thor thought he'd be, he’d always say a brave one, a true one – whatever that meant – a strong one. Becoming a lazy king had never occurred to him.

Having Loki back makes him ashamed of that. It makes him acutely conscious of how different he looks now, how the evidence of his grief must be written all over him.

And Loki looks precisely the same as he did the day he died. He looks like he just walked right out of Thor's memory, as if Thor’s been so desperate for him to return that he'd convinced himself of it. 

Thor wonders what it must be like, to reappear five years into the future with no warning, whether in those years there was some part of Loki, his soul or his consciousness or at least _something_ that remained of him.

He hopes his request to have Loki back hasn't ruined Loki's chances of being accepted into Valhalla for the second time.

Loki's mentioned nothing of how he died, nor of what happened shortly afterwards. It's not a question Thor can put a voice to. How's he supposed to bring _that_ up? _Ah, Loki, do you recall that time when I was forced to watch you get strangled to death? And afterwards, when Thanos dropped your body like it was nothing more than litter?_

The thought of it hasn’t stopped making Thor flinch. That was another thing he thought having Loki back would undo but it hasn't. It hasn't soothed over the memory. If anything, having Loki back just makes it almost as vivid as it was five years ago. 

It was easy to fall into certain rhythms. Eat. Sleep. Drink. Agree to spend time with Korg and Miek. Finds he prefers the distraction of their company to solitude. Finds he might actually prefer solitude more. Dithers between the two. Realises another day has passed in which he's helped no one. Realises Loki ended up dying just for him to sit around doing nothing but using up resources, unappreciative of the blood in his veins, of the air that he breathes, the fact that he still exists while billions of others including his brother don't. Loathes himself so much his only escape is either drinking or more worthless distractions. Realises he's continuing to be an utter waste of space, that he's just _pissing_ away Loki's last act the more he continues. Can't stand the thought of that so he drinks more. 

The cycle suffered a bump with Loki's return. But it's not until coming here, having a purpose again, getting away from it all, being able to be with the person he can't stop caring about the most in the universe, that he finally started feeling as if the worst of it might have passed.

He can't risk that progress slipping. He needs this, just as much as the situation needs him.

The path takes them south, heading from the dried out lands to the mountains in the distance, the grass and wilderness the only thing in between them.

The rhythm of their footsteps is the only sound against the quiet of the land. 

Very little has been said since they left the geysers behind, but this brand of silence isn't one that's riddled with tension. 

It makes a pleasant change. 

Even Loki doesn't have anything to complain about here. His legs are longer than Thor's, so Thor has to make his strides quicker to compensate. That, combined with carrying the chest along with all the other things in his rucksack, makes it harder work than it otherwise would be. 

They walk. For miles and miles, they walk. They started shortly past dawn but by the time they take their first rest, it's gone midday. 

"We should eat," Thor says. He frowns at Loki. "You should eat."

It still strikes Thor as odd how much Loki's survival continues to depend on this even after everything. Eating. Drinking. Sleeping. A delicate balance that if unmaintained means he won't have defeated death so much as borrowed from it.

After they eat, Thor leans back, using his rucksack to cushion his back as he lies facing the sky.

"You look like one of those Midgardian creatures," Loki says.

"That's not very specific." A pause. "Uncharacteristically non-descript by your standards."

"A tortoise," Loki recalls. "An upturned tortoise."

Thor shrugs. "Could be worse. Actually, that might be the nicest thing you’ve said to me on this trip."

"Aren't you supposed to be careful with the chest?" Loki asks. "Lying on it doesn't exactly seem conducive with keeping it intact."

Thor hastily sits upright.

* * *

The air gets thinner the higher they climb. Much higher up, there's snow in the valleys and troughs, but they've got a while to go until the point of reaching it. 

The inclines are steep enough that it serves as a reminder of how unaccustomed Thor has become to this type of exercise. His strength hasn't altered noticeably but his stamina on the other hand... 

This used to be _effortless_.

"Shall we pause for a minute?" Loki asks.

"No," Thor manages to get out between breaths. 

Loki can't possibly have neglected to notice the state he's in but he elects to not comment on it. 

Just this once, it's nice to be humoured.

* * *

They refill their water bottles at the river. It runs between the valley of two mountains, gushing white, icy cold. 

"You seem in an upbeat mood," Thor comments. It’s an exaggeration but it’s only a slight one.

"I am _dry_ ," Loki says with relish. "For the first time in I don't know how many days, I am dry."

If only Thor could say the same for himself. There's an unpleasant cold layer of sweat that's taken residence between his back and the rucksack.

"Can we swap?" Thor asks.

"Sorry?"

"Here," Thor says, undoing various buckles and handing him the chest. "We can take it in turns to carry it." 

Loki takes it. No protests, no scowls, nothing untoward whatsoever. Thor's pleasantly surprised. Then the chest disappears into Loki's pocket dimension. 

Thor stares. "I thought it'd be too big for you to be able to do that." And then, "You could've done that this entire time?"

* * *

Loki expresses an interest in navigating so Thor hands him the map and when they start heading in a direction Thor thinks is slightly off, Loki informs him he's found a more suitable route.

This one heads downwards rather than upwards. But, Loki tells him, it's only temporary. 

By evening fall, they’ve lost their way enough to not be able to find any of the huts that are supposed to be closeby and it's too dark to bother continuing. 

At least they're prepared for this. On some level, it makes Thor glad he bothered bringing the tent with them because it's made carrying the extra weight worth it.

They'll find their way to where they're supposed to be tomorrow, Thor resolves. 

Midgardian tents differ from Asgardian ones; they come with ready to assemble metal poles and the guy-ropes are already attached to the material, the only thing they require is looping on the pegs they're supposed to hammer into the ground. 

The process isn't intuitive. 

It takes them far longer than it should to find the slots where the poles are supposed to fit, and then when they finally locate them the poles keep getting stuck and breaking apart when they try to feed them through. Once they've gotten through that task – made much easier by one of them feeding the poles as the other deals with the tent fabric – they have to figure out which section should be erected first, only after much debating and experimentation to discover that with this particular style of tent it makes no difference at all. 

It was sold to them as a two-man tent but there's not much space inside. When they lie head to toe in their sleeping bags the only remaining space is fully occupied by their belongings.

There's so much Thor wants to say. It's quiet and practically peaceful by their standards so if there's any such thing as a good time to say something, it's now. 

He's been waiting for this moment ever since Loki returned, the moment when it finally feels right to tell him something meaningful, something that communicates both his gratitude and his grief, all his sorrow and all his joy. 

But now the moment's here Thor realises he has no idea how to communicate it. Whatever he can say won't be adequate. Not even close.

"Today was a good day," Thor finally says. 

"Even though we lost our way?"

"Maybe even more so because we lost our way."

A peculiar expression crosses Loki's face. "Do you mean that?"

"Of course I do." 

The words alone aren't enough. Of course they're not enough. But they're a start.


	8. Proditiophobia: The Fear of Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Loki and Thor started their journey to the Valley of Thieves, following instructions to find an item hidden in alcove in a tree as described in Þrasi Þórólfsson's journal.

Thor is woken by the light of dawn filtering in through the tent walls.

Loki is... He doesn't know what Loki is. Even asleep, Loki has always managed to be graceful, never undignifying himself with mundane things like _breathing_ _loudly_ or having his mouth fall open. Loki's head is turned away and there's no telling whether his eyes are open or closed, whether he's just resting or waiting or sleeping.

Thor's sleeping mat is too thin; he can feel bumps in the ground underneath it, the miniature troughs and hills. It was cold during the night too, and still is now, the fabric of the tent walls stiff with a thin layer of ice. When he breathes out, the mists of condensation puffs like the steam of a dragon.

"I suppose it's the one advantage of having such a small tent," Loki comments.

So he _has_ been awake all this time. Of course he has. This is Loki; sleep is something he views as a vulnerability so it’s only natural he'll do everything he can to avoid anyone seeing him in such a state.

"What is?" Thor asks.

"The extra warmth."

There's enough space that they can lie comfortably without touching, but the tent is small enough that the heat of their bodies and breaths makes a significant difference.

Thor reaches for the map that's resting on one of the rucksacks between them but Loki gets there before him. "Can’t I see where we’re going?"

"Absolutely not." One half of Loki's mouth is raised.

"Is there any particular reason?"

"Oh, you know me and my dastardly schemes."

Playfulness. Thor has missed this: the pointless disputes and being a deliberate nuisance purely for the fun of it, the types of arguments that used to mean nothing before Loki's jabs grew increasingly mean spirited and Thor's temper would get out of hand, the types of arguments that, upon reflection, mean anything but nothing.

Maybe Loki mistakes the smile that’s appeared on Thor’s face as an attempt to beg because he rolls his eyes. "Fine,” Loki concedes. “Here."

He hands it over and Thor spends a few seconds attempting to pinpoint where they are, only there are so many lines and so many names of places that he doesn’t even know where to start.

"All that fuss and you don't even bother to–"

"You can have it. I trust you."

Something shifts behind Loki's eyes, but it's gone before Thor can identify what it is. 

Loki retrieves the map and gestures outside. "Shall we?"

* * *

"You're covering your arms?" Loki says in mock astonishment once they are back on the path he's set out for them. "This must be an ill-omen. A sign of true cold waiting for us in our future."

"I see the cold has only made your sense of humour sharper."

"Honed it like a knife, brother."

"I wish I could say the same for your sense of direction. We should've passed Hvitarnes Hut yesterday evening but we've still seen no sign of it."

"It's almost as if you still don't trust me, brother." It comes with a smile that's both sad and wry at the same time, as if Loki both enjoys and suffers at the expense of a private joke.

* * *

There are no fields in sight now, just the mountains. The sight of reindeer and sheep in distant lands is gone, and the snow grows closer and closer. 

For the most part, Thor keeps his eyes on the ground. It's easier that way. One step at a time rather than focusing too much on their destination far away in the distance. Loki doesn't stop looking into the distance; Thor's convinced it's going to cause him to lose his footing and fall at some point, but it never does. How does Loki do that? He makes it all seem so effortless. He makes a lot of things seem effortless. Even returning from the dead only seems to have temporarily subdued him for a while, but if someone had asked Thor years ago what he’d do if he returned from the same situation Loki has, he knows what his former self would have answered. He'd say he'd want to see everything, do everything, live in awe of everything the Nine Realms has to offer and experience everything there is to experience and do it so vigorously no one can ever doubt he's alive, not even himself. 

But it doesn't always work like that. Thor knows that now, even without having to die in order to learn that lesson. Thor knows nothing of dying, he only knows of surviving. But time and time again, death proves itself remorseless. It whittles. That's what it does. That's what witnessing so much of it does. And he’s witnessed enough of it to know that next time, if there is any mercy left for the taking, he won't choose to survive it again. Not if he gets the choice of his life or someone else’s. Easier to die than endure having to go through that again.

Maybe when it happens he'll be able to see Frigga again. The Warriors Three. Even his father. Did Loki get to speak to any of them after he died? Thor thought himself lucky with the extra conversation he’d been granted with Frigga, but if Loki got to see her after she died then he isn’t sure which is more tragic: the version in which she is dead but understands everything, or the version in which she is alive but doesn't understand what's going to happen to her.

Their path steepens. The gradient is so steep that the path has to zig-zag in wide sweeping lines rather than leading them in a more direct route. Another unpleasant cold sweat begins to form. The altitude makes the air thinner, but the view allows them to see for miles and miles around, all the paths that trail like string, all the lakes that reflect the bright blue hue of the sky, all the faraway villages and valleys beneath them.

There's a simplicity in this that is pleasant. The walk means they are always moving but never into danger, always active but never exhausted, always together but never in each other's spaces. At least not until they camp, that is.

Maybe they should take this up when they return to New Asgard. The thought makes Thor pause. New Asgard... He'd be returning to be its king. Returning to the house that renders them into ghosts of who they used to be. The more time they spend away from it the more surreal it becomes to imagine both himself and Loki permanently living there. Especially Loki. Loki's return never felt so temporary as it did while they were in that house.

* * *

The biggest indicator that their map is wrong doesn't come when it's evening again and they still haven't found their hut – not just their hut, but _any_ hut. It also doesn't come the next day after yet another night spent in the tent: it comes when they find themselves on the brink of a glacier. 

Thor doesn't recall a glacier like this being mentioned when he researched the trail that’s supposed to lead them through the Valley of Thieves – the Kjolur Trail, it’s known as – but it feels almost wrong to ask Loki about it after everything Thor said about trust. That, and he knows how Loki's pride gets.

"We need to cross that way," Loki says with certainty, pointing with a finger across the glacier lake. 

Thor squints. Across the other side, there's a clearing where the path resumes. There are also three other places in which it looks likely for there to be routes. "Are you sure this is..."

"I know what I'm doing."

In the worst scenario, it'll take them longer than it otherwise would. So long as their supplies don't run short, it's not something Thor considers a problem. So this journey might end up running days longer than expected – why would he complain about that when it also means he gets to spend more time with Loki like this? Peaceful isn't the right word, but Loki seems closer to it than Thor's seen him be in a long time, far more content than when they were in the water or the cave passages.

Getting the crampons out this early wasn't anticipated either, but it's no matter. The crampons get attached to their boots, the metal spikes digging into the ice whenever they take a step.

It’s easy-going at first, as simple as walking, only having to raise their feet slightly differently to avoid them scuffing between steps. 

Then they reach a chasm.

It’s not a wide one, only a couple of feet across, but it goes down far enough that Thor can’t see the bottom of it when he peers over the edge. Falling wouldn’t be enough to injure them, he concludes, but it would be an inconvenience that’d set them back hours at the very least. And it’s not the only chasm; ahead he can make out similar-looking gaps he hadn’t noticed before which means that passing over them will become a regularity.

Rope, then. They can tie a piece of rope between them, at least that way they stand less of a chance of one of them falling in.

It's a precaution they never used to bother taking in the past. Fandral would have scorned at the idea of it, Voltstag would be subjected to jabs about his weight – it's almost ironic now, how their positions have been reversed – Sif would have thought it questioned her competence, while Hogun was probably the only one out of Sif and the Warriors Three who would have taken the precaution without complaint.

This is precisely the kind of danger they used to get themselves in. It has it all. A great journey filled with many perils. Having to leap over cavernous pits. Treacherous ground. A monster that waits at the end of it all. 

Only with it being difficult to face Sif (he’ll do it when he gets back, he _will)_ , there's just himself and Loki left and Thor has no desire to slay whatever monster he might find, not if he can avoid having to do so. 

It certainly wouldn't be this quiet if the Warriors Three were with him. Fandral would somehow look as if he was posing for a painting all while laughing with Voltstag, while Hogun would be either silently or verbally berating the two of them. 

He can imagine it now: the sound of Fandral’s laughter as he’d make a jest about which one of them would be the first to fall in and drag the rest in along with them.

Loki’s been looking at him very oddly ever since Thor first suggested tying a rope between them. The leap over the chasm is barely more than a step. It’s almost disappointing.

The strange look on Loki’s face still remains and finally he speaks. "Are you… Are you well?"

It’s Thor’s turn to be the one giving Loki the odd look. "Of course I'm well."

The weight of Loki's gaze is unsettling. His lips are set thin, thinner than their usual, and he murmurs ever so quietly, "I know you miss them."

Thor's breath catches in his throat. He finds himself having to blink in rapid succession before nodding. "It's just–'' Thor wrings his hands together. "They would be with me." And then, "They _should_ be with me." All of them. All the citizens of Asgard should still be here, for all the good wishing does. "Nothing would have excited them more than the prospect of a quest, particularly on a realm we have barely explored."

The ice and pale sky brings out the blueness in Loki's eyes. Ever shifting they are, from blue to grey to green, but all of them are Loki. It's fitting how much the colour of them shifts along with Loki and his moods, but even though they reflect the ice there's nothing cold about them now, nothing cold about the way the corners of them are tinged with concern. 

"If it's any consolation," Loki says, and he’s trying to be gentle, Thor can hear it in his voice, "they died how they would have chosen to."

Thor stiffens. "Not like _that_. Not when it didn't end up meaning anything."

"They died protecting Asgard."

" _Nothing_ could protect Asgard, that was the point. The only thing that could save Asgard was destroying it. They didn't manage to hinder Hela at all – few could."

Loki looks like he's about to argue so Thor presses on: "I know if they could've chosen how to die, it would've been defending Asgard. But they would've wanted it to be glorious, legendary. I... I heard what happened to them when I tried to find them on board the Statesman. There was nothing glorious about it. They would've wanted to leave their marks, to at least make whoever killed them have a hard time doing it. But she didn't." Thor swallows. "And now they're all dead."

Loki makes his way forwards to stand by Thor's side, his boots crunching in the snow. "I’m sorry–"

"You're sorry? Of all the things you could apologise for, you choose _that?”_

"I meant, Thor, that I'm sorry for what part my actions played in resulting in their deaths."

Thor falls silent. He considers laying a hand on his brother's shoulder, only the thought that Loki's behaving in exactly the way he'd want him to, tentatively sincere and reconciliatory, and there's the slightest chance this is all just wishful thinking on Thor's part and his hand might just fall straight through him if he touches him.

So Thor nods instead. "Sometimes I imagine I can hear them."

Is that worry he can see written on Loki's face? It’d be touching in any other circumstance. Maybe it still is.

"What do you mean?"

"I know it's not real. I don't actually hear their voices, but I like to pretend they're still with me sometimes."

"They were your friends,' Loki says after a long moment. "Your closest friends. Your shield brothers. Of course you miss them."

"Mother too," Thor adds. "And Father." And then, somewhat shakily, his voice breaking in the middle, "I don't think it will ever stop, Loki."

Loki reaches out, his palm touching the back of Thor's shoulder. It's barely perceptible through all Thor's layers of clothing, but nonetheless, it still has weight. Loki is real. Thor wonders when he’ll finally stop having to remind himself of that.

"Nor I," Loki says.

Thor blinks at him. "You miss them too?"

'The Warriors Three were always your friends more than mine." Then, almost defensively, Loki adds, "But I was saddened to hear of what came of them. The idea of an Asgard without them is very odd."

But Thor still stares at him in shock. "And Mother? Father?"

"You know how much Frigga meant to me." Loki doesn't give Thor the chance to respond before he asks, "Don’t you?"

"The bond between you and Mother was unbreakable."

"And then she died. We both grieved. But I won't pretend that I still grieve for Odin."

"He was our father–"

"Not to–"

"Don't you _dare_ say he wasn't one to you too." It's not until the words echo back and Loki jerks away that Thor realises how loudly he’d been shouting. He takes a moment to catch his breath, to reign in the volume of his voice. "I know he made a great number of mistakes, but that doesn't mean he didn't genuinely care for you, Loki."

Loki's eyes have returned to a cold blue. "He told me he would have had my head removed from my shoulders if it wasn't for Mother."

"He also told you that you are one of his sons. That he loved you. It was one of the last things he ever said."

A wry smile appears on Loki's face. "I never claimed not to be conflicted about it."

It feels as if something in the air has cracked and Thor starts chuckling, a low rumble in his throat that won't stop growing until he can feel his laughter in the pit of his stomach. The laugh of Loki’s that begins to follow is far from as full as his and neither does it last as long, but it's the only thing that could make this any better, the only company of anyone on this realm Thor would want.

* * *

It happens late at night. They've made camp and have settled inside, only for Thor's bladder to protest otherwise. The sight hits him as he unzips the door of the tent, the greens and blues and purples of the aurora dancing above them in its slow-moving waves, so slow they seem static at first glance.

Thor forgets all about his original intentions and just _stares_.

"Loki," he says when he remembers himself. "Loki, come and look at this."

Loki's voice comes through the muffled walls of the tent: "If you're going to point out another arctic fox again–"

"No, nothing like that."

"What is it then?"

"Just come and look. You'll like it, I promise."

There's an audible sigh before the zip starts to move and Loki sticks his head out of the tent. 

"Up there," Thor directs. 

Loki clocks the aurora.

A moment later, Loki is sitting by his side. 

The aurora isn't anything like the nebulae that could be seen from the Rainbow Bridge; its colours aren't as vivid or varied and it doesn't span for galaxies. The aurora is something unique to Midgard, a light display just for certain regions of their planet – Thor’s read the leaflets that explain the phenomena but he still doesn’t understand how it works. Jane will know – he can ask her the next time they talk.

For all the simple joy found in journeying, there's something to be said for being stationary too. Thor never used to want to remain still, never used to want to take the time to reflect and know the person he was when he wasn't taking action. But here, in a place that holds so much beauty and with Loki by his side, he'd gladly spend years trapped in this moment. 

Loki seems to have forgotten to maintain his usual guard. His face is more open, filled with a rare calm.

Together they sit. The minutes pass and the silence is a different breed to the one inside of their home; here it's a comforting one.

Eventually, the cold begins to seep in and Loki starts holding himself tighter. Most likely, it won't be long until he decides to retire for the night. Thor might not get another chance to talk to him while he's this unguarded for some time. 

"Do you..." Thor trails off. It feels almost like taking advantage of him, asking him this. "Do you remember much of it?"

Loki’s back straightens. His features become carefully controlled, disciplined. "Remember much of what, Thor?"

_Dying_ , Thor almost says but can't. "What happened... after."

"After what?" Loki's face falls. "Oh."

"Was there– Did you see anything? Valhalla? Mother? Father?"

Loki takes a long moment before responding. "You want to know whether this is it?” he asks. “Whether there's anywhere to come back from or just a void? Whether if we do the best we can and at least _die correctly_ , there's something waiting for us that makes it all worth it?"

Thor swallows. Nods.

"Then I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you. I remember nothing."

Thor leans forward. "Nothing? As in you remember it being nothing, or–"

"I don't remember anything."

"But what about afterwards? When you were coming back, surely there was a transition between you not being alive and you being alive again?"

"There might've been, for all I know. But I don't recall any of it."

Thor’s not sure if he believes him but he’s not going to press the subject any further, not when Loki’s already told him much more than he ever thought he would.

* * *

The next morning comes similarly as the first one did, only it's colder now that they're higher up, so cold it merits sleeping while wearing mittens over their hands.

Snow is always underfoot now, and it's a good thing it's so cold the top layer of it has frozen otherwise they'd have to wade through feet of powdered snow. They're at a height where they've surpassed a number of the smaller mountain peaks and have lost count of the number of times they've reached what they thought was a summit only to discover it was just the illusion of one, the real summit being much higher.

"Can I see that?" Thor asks, nodding to the map. He wants to see which mountains they’ve summitted already.

"What happened to trusting me?"

"I do trust you, it's just your judgement I might want to question." Thor intends the words to come out as playful but all it results in is Loki scowling at him. How fragile all the progress they made yesterday and in the previous weeks seems to be if something as small and insignificant as this is capable of unravelling it. 

"You're the one who thinks it's a good idea to seek out the serpent prophesied to kill you. If anyone's judgement is to be questioned here, it shouldn't be mine."

"Fine," Thor resigns. It takes effort to keep his tone deliberately light, and it comes out as slightly forced. "I'm as big of an idiot as I always have been. Could you pass over the map now? Two sets of eyes are better than one, especially when we could blunder into something we shouldn't with all the snow here."

Loki keeps the map out of his reach. "You'll make me lose my place."

"We both know you can remember exactly where we are on the map without having to look at it constantly." Thor makes another grab for it, more firmly this time, and yet Loki still keeps it from him.

"You said I could be the navigator."

This is more than pettiness; the alarm is visible on Loki's face, in the wideness of his eyes and the growing desperation of his attempts to keep the map to himself. He's hiding something. He must be. There has to be a reason he's behaving like this. 

Thor comes to a stop. "Loki," he says slowly. "Why are you–"

"Because, Thor, you’re doubting me and it's insulting."

Thor stands back. "Insulting you? Is that really what this is about?"

"You clearly doubt my ability to pinpoint where we are on a map most Midgardians are expected to be able to use. Either that or you think I've made an amateurish mistake and–"

"Loki," Thor says, gently, quietly. "You're one of the cleverest people I know. But even clever people fall prey to idiocy sometimes. And idiotic people can imitate cleverness sometimes too.” He gestures to himself as an example. “But you also keep talking about how you don't want to waste time. And we _still_ haven't come across any of the huts. So just... let me give a second opinion, would you? If we're lost we could accidentally wander over a lake that hasn't fully frozen over or stray too close to an edge with all this snow around."

"The day I need to rely on your opinion is the day we are _both_ doomed."

Still, no map. 

"Loki. Just–" Nevermind. So much for retaining the peace of last night. Thor snatches the map before Loki can dodge out of the way. He stares for a long moment, trying to trace the route he knows they definitely started and attempting to match which alternative route he only _suspects_ they took. And he still has no idea where they are, only they can’t be anywhere near where they’re supposed to be. 

"... Loki," Thor begins. "Where..."

Loki says nothing, his lips pressed tightly together, eyes on the map rather than meeting his.

Thor presses on. "You knew all along then. You knew we weren’t heading in the right direction." At least Loki has the decency to look a little ashamed. Thor folds the map almost violently before shoving it into his pocket. "Why? Why did you do it?"

Loki draws in a sharp breath before answering, "I think you know why."

"No. I don't. You don't even want to be here, you've made that _very_ clear. So why do this? Why stall?"

"I've told you," Loki says with such reluctance it's as if the words are being dragged out of him, "how much of a terrible idea it is to go into this unprepared."

"So your plan was... to do what?"

A bitter look crosses his face. "Trying to stop the inevitable, it would seem."

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It doesn’t matter what I or don’t do.” Loki barks out a laugh, the sound caustic. “You get closer to Jörmungandr no matter what. It’s like it’s the will of the Norns and you’re just so _happy_ to go along with it.”

"But… You don't actually think I'd let Jörmungandr kill me, do you?"

Loki drags his eyes to him. They are hollow and resigned. "You don't always get a choice, Thor." His smile is a sour thing. "Speaking as someone who's experienced in that department."

"Can we..." Thor bites the inside of his mouth. "Can we stop and sit?"

Loki's eyeing him as if he's expecting him to snap at any minute, to throw his fist into the nearest boulder, but it isn't anger so much as bewilderment that sits on the forefront of Thor's mind.

They find a spot in the hollow of a crag, one that shelters then from the cold winds. 

Thor clears his throat. "I'd like to clarify something."

"Oh?"

"Yes. All this... Have you done anything similar on this trip?"

Loki looks to him, searching for something, trying to make an assessment. "Why? What would you do if I had?"

"I... I don't know. I still don't understand. Not fully."

"I don't want to chase after Jörmungandr."

Right. That. "Even if–"

"Even if it doesn't result in your demise. It seems like a pointless venture."

"You could’ve gone home."

Loki looks at him pointedly. "I don't _have_ one. And neither do you. If you thought New Asgard was your home you wouldn't be so happy to leave it behind."

Wouldn’t he be? Thor isn’t so sure. All he knows is that the words don’t sit right, but he doesn’t want to think about that now, not when there’s a revelation of a different kind to be had. "You know how you were saying you were trying to stop me finding Jörmungandr?” He waits for Loki to nod. “So am I right in thinking this was you trying to... protect me?"

Horror crosses Loki's face. "I don't think _protect_ is the right word."

"Then tell me what the right word is."

There's a long silence as Loki thinks. "I'd say what I did was more along the lines of preventing you from humiliating yourself and giving us a bad name."

A likely story. He’s lying again, twisting the truth so he’s not exposing something he no doubt considers horrifying like _sentimentality_ , only Thor doesn’t mind the lie this time. It's touching. Loki's verbal denial should be anything but touching because this is yet another betrayal. But what it should be makes no difference. If Loki was going to betray him, these are the motivations Thor would want him to have. 

Thor shakes his head fondly. "Some part of me is flattered."

"Flattered?"

"That you care so much. And you care enough to pander to my pride by not telling me how concerned you are."

Loki stares at him as if he fears he’s lost his mind. "Thor. I've told you multiple times how much of a terrible idea chasing after the thing that's supposed to kill you is."

"I know," Thor says happily. "I just didn't connect the two until now. I just thought you were happy to make me feel like the idiot."

"But Thor... you _are_ the idiot."

Thor shakes his head. "Coming here has been one of the best decisions I've made in a long time."

Loki stares at him as if now fully convinced he’s lost his mind " _That's_ what you're getting out of this? You think this is _good?”_

"Of course I do. In a way, it’s nice to see proof you care."

Loki recoils as if Thor's just struck him. "I _died_ for you. How much more proof do you need?" He doesn't wait for a response, just shoves himself to his feet and begins to storm away, faster than Thor can reach.

Thor stares at the empty space Loki just left before rushing after him. "Loki, wait – I didn't know, okay?"

Loki lets out an abrasive laugh. "You didn't know? Even you aren't _that_ oblivious. You proved that much today, at least."

"No." Thor's running to catch up but still lags behind. "I thought you wanted Thanos for yourself. I thought you wanted to be the one to kill him. I thought it was vengeance you craved."

Loki whirls around, eyes alight with rage. "Armed with nothing but a knife and my illusions?"

"You had the Tesseract."

"Yes. And even you must be able to deduce what would've happened to you had I escaped with it and left you behind."

_I died for you_. The words echo in Thor’s mind.

Thor's mouth has gone dry. "So you... You stayed."

"It should hardly come as a great surprise, Thor," Loki spits out.

"I knew you stayed but I thought– Well, I thought you had a plan. I didn't think you deliberately intended to–"

"To die? I would've preferred not to. But I had to improvise."

Suddenly, it's very difficult to breathe. Even more difficult to meet his eyes, especially when they're filled with so much scorn. Loki knew he was probably going to die. And yet he did it anyway. Thor knew before that if it hadn't been for him then Loki might've still been alive, but it's another thing to have indisputable confirmation of it. And what a mess Thor’s made of it.

_Oh, Loki_.

"I'm sorry," Thor manages to say. It's inadequate. So woefully inadequate but it's all he has. 

"You’re sorry? Why would you be sorry?"

"I wish I could've done something differently. Now just with how I’ve reacted. I wish I could’ve stopped it from ever happening, not just assumed you thought you knew what you were doing and ended up making a fatal mistake."

"Other people often fall into the same trap," Loki replies, but before Thor can ask what trap he answers the question for him: "The trap of assuming that at all times I know precisely what I am doing."

"Well," Thor replies, "you do a remarkably convincing job."

"Thank you?"

"Look," Thor gets in before the moment passes. “If this isn't a good time to say it then it never will be. I want you here. With me. I want you by my side for this. I need–" Thor takes a breath and tries again. "I could use your help. But if you keep working to sabotage me, I don’t know what I’ll do."

Loki shakes his head. "There's nothing that says you have to do this."

"I know I don't."

"There's nothing that says you _should_ do this either."

"I say I should."

"I've made my feelings on how ridiculous that is perfectly clear."

"I know."

"Jörmungandr hasn't even harmed anyone that you know of. Surely if you're so desperate to thrust yourself into being useful, you could find something far more effective than some obscure sea monster."

"It's Norse. It's one of ours." And so is Loki. If Thor can save Jörmungandr and prove it was all worth it no matter how monstrous the creature might be, then surely he can prove the same thing to Loki about saving him too.

"You're being unreasonable."

"Maybe I am."

Loki lets out a long sigh. "I see you're still as stubborn as ever."

"Does that mean you'll help me? Without hindering me this time?”

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Don't make me choose between spending time doing this and spending time with you." Thor regrets how the words sound the instant they hit the air, the way he’s saying it right after Loki’s just admitted to dying for him. But Loki knows he’ll pick spending time with him over any quest, he must do.

It takes a rare moment for something to make Loki look as bewildered as he does now. "After everything I've done, you still..."

"It could be fun," Thor offers. "If you let it be."

"I doubt that very much."

"Does that mean you aren't...?" 

Loki's hands are balled into fists, his posture taut. "Fine," he snaps. "I'll genuinely help this time. But–" he points a finger "–only because I don't want you doing this by yourself and getting into even more trouble than you would otherwise."

"You don't need to watch over me."

"Oh, I think _someone_ has to. You seem determined to get yourself into ridiculous situations. Even if you're not as content to get other people into dangerous situations as you used to be, you still don't care if you end up in them yourself and I will _not_ be the last member of our family alive, I _won't_." Loki suddenly stops talking. Then he adds, a little hastily, "And besides, you know who would get the blame if I let you die."

Thor blinks at him. Tenderness has a weight and it aches in his chest. He lays a hand on Loki's shoulder and he feels solid underneath his hand; Thor can feel his breaths and the texture of the fabric underneath his fingers, surely too detailed for a conjuring of his imagination. _Real_ , he reminds himself.

"Thank you," Thor says. He lets his hand fall. "I appreciate it, truly I do." Not just for agreeing to help, that’s another thing Loki must know. But Thor doesn’t know how to begin to address Loki’s sacrifice that cost him his life – if he thanks him then it makes him seem glad he made that decision, but if he doesn’t then it makes him ungrateful, like the act and everything he was willing to give up meant nothing. And besides, Loki would hate for him to directly acknowledge it. Loki’s language is all about double-meanings and twisting words, surely if there’s any way to communicate with him, it’s by utilising those same tools.

Loki looks wary, expression too exposed and too open at the same time. He doesn't say anything, only nods.

"But I have to warn you," Thor adds, "if you try anything like this again–"

"Yes, yes. Returning to New Asgard will come sooner than anticipated."

"I trust it won't come to that."

Loki meets his eyes. ‘It won’t,” he promises.


	9. Nyctophobia: The Fear of the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Loki and Thor are in the middle of their journey to the Valley of Thieves, following instructions to find an item hidden in an alcove in a tree as described in Þrasi Þórólfsson's journal. After leading them astray from the route they were supposed to be taking, Loki agreed to help Thor (sincerely, this time) in his search for Jörmungandr.

The following day, once they’ve travelled south far enough that they can actually see roads with cars on, they find the hut nestled in a field on a plateau. Thor isn't sure if it's _the_ hut they were searching for or just _a_ hut until they get closer, but he did manage to consult with the tourism companies that run them online before they left for Kjölur and it’s for that reason he’s able to recognise it.

The hut is a stone building that takes the shape of a small cottage with a pointed roof. 

"There it is," Thor announces, despite being fully aware that the announcement is unnecessary; Loki would have spotted it before him.

Loki's expression does not reveal much. "Do we, ah... Do we have a way of getting inside?"

"I have an email. It said where the key was hidden for guests."

"They hide a key for guests to use? _Any_ guests? That sounds oddly trusting."

"Not every instance of people being trusting has to be odd."

"I suppose it's more profitable to risk poorly behaving guests rather than pay for permanent staff to remain up here."

Loki, Thor has noted, has a very cynical way of looking at trust sometimes. "Come on. The key's supposed to be in a gap between stones somewhere to the left of the window."

Loki follows, mouth crooked in amusement.

"What?" Thor asks.

"Oh, nothing. I was just idly wondering what would happen to guests who couldn't find the key."

"And _that's_ the reason you’re smiling?" Thor shakes his head in good humour despite it all. "No wonder you think this realm has something against you."

"Presumably," Loki says, ignoring that comment, "the guests would go very cold."

Once they're inside, there's a donation box in the hallway, along with a notice that the money goes towards further maintenance of the hut. Thor donates a handful of Krona, which earns him a not very well disguised exasperated look.

They have money now. Admittedly, not a huge amount of it, but enough that they can afford this. More. They'll get more later.

The place is set as if waiting for them: there are shoe racks and coat hooks, mats to wipe their feet on, and, best of all, a large fireplace. It's in the centre of the main room, a communal area with tables and chairs, the walls plastered with photographs from visitors, of families and hiking groups and spectacular views from nearby the area – Thor recognises a few of the locations from the journey here. 

The place has a very homely quality to it somehow, though there’s something about it that means he wouldn’t like to stay there alone. Thor can imagine what it would be like filled with people; the acoustics would make laughter echo and all of the people would be crowded around the fireplace for warmth, telling stories and sharing food and planning what to do in the days to follow.

There are even games left here for visitors, decks of cards and a chequered board that looks familiar, and there's also a logbook that contains writings from visitors who relay stories of their travels during their stay here. 

The place is empty but it's full of the ghosts of previous guests, rich with the details of people's lives while they remained here.

Thor could imagine returning here year after year, turning the pages of the logbook so he could read the stories of those who visited in his absence. There are day by day accounts of where people walked, stories of strangers meeting at the hut and befriending one another, tales of groups arranging to meet here and spending their days hiking and nights drinking. There are so many different styles of handwriting in the book, so many different perspectives from all ages. 

There are large letters penned by a child's hand, an illustration of something that might be tentacles or some kind of fantastical plant root that makes its way down the spine which must be the work of an artist, miniature neat writing that must belong to the mind of a logician which factually and impersonally surmises the day by day proceedings. 

Thor has little interest in reading books, but this is something he could invest time in. Real stories, written by real people, something just for this place. The evidence of each visitor’s individuality present even just in the way they form their script.

Upstairs, there are two dormitories, complete with two-story beds. None of the rooms are large and there are only two different ones to choose from, but Loki chooses the same one as Thor and Thor tries not to beam too much.

* * *

That evening, they have the privilege of cooking over a stove. There's no need to start a fire, no messing around trying to keep all the food warm with multiple pans and only one hob. 

The sound of the extractor fan is the loudest sound here and it would be unsettlingly quiet without it, even when his and Loki’s silences are of the more comfortable variety as of late. 

This place almost suits Loki, Thor thinks. Remote, yet not too isolated. Takes work to find but is well worth the effort. If it wasn't for how they'd almost reached the Valley of Thieves, Thor would want to remain here longer. 

"It must've been a lot of effort to go to," Loki comments. "To build this hut, I mean."

"It can't be an easy location to reach here, no."

A furrow appears. "Why even go to the effort? That's what I can't understand. They can't make _that_ much money from keeping this place running."

Thor shrugs. "Probably not. But it's nice, don't you think?"

"After spending night after night in a tent whose walls freeze each morning? Of course it feels like an improvement."

"Don't think that I don't see right through you. You like it here too. And not just because it's better than sleeping outside."

Loki rolls his eyes. Thor dares think of it as fondly. 

* * *

That night, Thor gets the best sleep he's had in a long time. That is, until he wakes with a start. 

He's not used to this; usually he'll sleep through the night without any problems, and he's been reliably informed by many how difficult it is to rouse him into wakefulness.

There are footsteps. Coming from somewhere beneath them.

Irregular steps. One, two.

"Loki?" Thor whispers.

Three, four. 

He hears Loki stir. 

"Loki?" Thor asks again. 

A louder rustle, coming from Loki's bed this time. "What?" Loki sounds uncharacteristically bleary; he must have just woken. 

Five, six.

"Can’t you hear it?"

“Hear what?”

“I’ll see to it,” Thor mutters and peels the sheets off himself.

His efforts to move quietly are ruined by the loud creaking of the door hinge as he opens it.

Outside their room the landing is in complete darkness. He fumbles to find a switch, palm scrabbling over the wall until he finds it. The light flickers, then turns on, the loud hum of electricity accompanying it.

Seven. The loudest footstep yet.

Thor makes his way down the stairs, one at a time. They are narrow and well worn, the middle of each one intended from years and years of use that makes them disorientating to descend. Once he reaches the foot of the stairwell he turns, then hovers outside the door to the utility room, the room that, he assumes, leads to underneath the dormitory they were sleeping in.

The door opens with no resistance.

Eight. 

The sound comes from a large black shape that dominates the room. Its metal cylinder is almost as tall as he is, and it clicks loudly, hissing as if in anger, sending puffs of steam up from one of the nearby pipes. 

Pipes. It’s covered in them, some wrapped around it and others connecting it to something on the other side of the walls, like its being strangled and hanged at the same time.

Thor is very awake all of a sudden.

Hurriedly, he turns on the utility light.

Thor thinks he would have prefered it if he’d come across a stranger lurking here rather than this… boiler. It’s a boiler. An old one, it has to be. It’s larger than any he’s seen and there are a number of gauges attached to it, sticking out at odd angles. Something – water? –inside the main chamber makes a sudden glug and bubbles and as Thor swallows his ears click in response.

It’s just a boiler. Thor doesn’t– He doesn’t know why it’s brought about this response in him, this bizarre urge to leave and firmly shut the door behind him. Maybe it’s something to do with how it’s looming ahead of him, dark and twisted and imposing in a stark contrast to the sterileness of the room. 

The machine bubbles again and the pressure rises further in Thor’s ears. 

This is– He is being daft. Like a child seeing monsters in the dark. He just needs more sleep, 

There are no more noises after that.

* * *

When morning comes and daylight along with it, the events of the previous night seem even more ridiculous.

Thor has faced countless beasts and has yet to come across any of the ones Midgard has to offer that could harm him. And yet, for a few seconds, the sight of a piece of machinery had unnerved him in a way he hasn't experienced since he was a child. Over a thousand years he's gone without being scared of something making noises in the dark, and there should be no reason for it to start now. 

At least Loki seems to be enjoying teasing him about the noises he thinks were entirely a figment of Thor's imagination. 

* * *

They set off not long after. It's all downhill, far easier work than going up. To begin with, at least. It becomes tougher on the calves, bringing on a light ache after just a few hours. Occasionally they come across areas of scree they need to pass through, large mounds the size of hills composed out of piles and piles of small stones and rocks that move and slide when they step on them, sending miniature avalanches down below.

They have descended so far the snow is a thing that’s behind him and they’re almost at the valley now, Thor can see it splayed out below them. There aren't many trees around. He's started being on the lookout for them, for the possibility of any tree that could've been the one Þórólfsson was referring to in his journal entry, the one that's supposed to be distinctive in some way and is where he commanded someone to hide the key for the chest. 

Trees aren't something Iceland has in abundance, it's just not something Thor's noticed until he's started actively trying to find them. 

"You know," Loki says, as if reading his thoughts, "there's a chance the tree could have been destroyed. Chopped down, harvested for wood."

Thor shakes his head. "This was a man capable of placing sufficiently advanced wards on objects. I doubt he'd neglect to protect the very thing hiding the key."

"You're forgetting Þórólfsson was a man whose belongings we found in Lake Lagarfljót. He might have had other people acting on his orders to place the key, people who weren't capable of placing such enchantments." 

"... Maybe.” He still doesn’t think so though.

"Would that we'd be so fortunate."

"I thought you promised to help."

"And I will hold true to that promise. Even if it means helping you find Jörmungandr. But that doesn't mean I won't be glad if we fail."

Thor unleashes a breath of amusement. "Honesty suits you."

"For someone given the title I have, I really should make a habit of lying more often. You know how I hate to disappoint."

"Loki," Thor scolds, though he sounds far too fond for it to have any effect.

"There's a tree over there," Loki points out. "Just over the hilltop."

Thor's already spotted it, but he neglects to mention that. It's a comforting reaffirmation that Loki wasn't going to just let it slide if Thor hadn't already noticed it.

Within the hour, they reach it. There's nothing distinctive in particular about it, even when they get up close. No hollow either. Time to search elsewhere.

"You should mark the ones you can see on the map," Loki says. "That way you can cross them off when we've eliminated them."

Thor starts rummaging for a pencil. 

* * *

Finding the tree is, surprisingly, uneventful. After spending the better part of a day crossing back and forth between the two hills that form the valley, they find the tree next to a lake. The lake is well hidden, a pocket of water that's only visible from certain angles above and unreachable via any path. They have to clamber their way over various rocks and boulders to get to it and when they do they find the lake is a stunning vivid blue, perfectly turquoise and clear and still. 

They know this tree is the one they've been searching for before they even check if it has a hollow: they know it because this is the only distinctive tree they've come across in the entire valley. Its trunk gives it the illusion of having two legs and its two thickest branches look like arms waving in the air, either like it's threatening them or drowning. The top of the trunk that forms the head doesn't look quite as human as the rest of it though. The proportions are too large, and it's much squarer than it should be, yet all the necessary features are there in the knots and bark: eyes, nose, mouth. 

Troll. 

No wonder Þórólfsson described it as distinctive. 

The hollow around the other side is deep enough that Thor has to place the entirety of his arm inside before he feels the key at the bottom.

It's heavy and sturdy, the base of the handle filled with decorative marks. 

"Look," Thor says, showing the end of the key to Loki. "There's engraving. Old script." He squints to get a better look. "Servant." he concludes at the exact same moment that Loki says, "Serpent."

They look at each other.

One of them has to relent. 

"It's only one letter," Thor offers. "It might have eroded over time."

"Considering the context, serpent seems more likely."

Serpent does seem more likely. And yet, no matter how much Thor squints, he still can't see it.

* * *

Thor holds out the key to Loki. "Do you want to do the honours?"

Apparently Loki is curious enough to take it before summoning the chest from his pocket dimension and inserting the key in the lock. 

Inside, it is empty for all but one object: a spyglass. Or, at least, it looks like a precursor to one. It has an eyehole to look through, a tubular-shaped body to grip the instrument by, and glass at one end – flat, not smooth and rounded like a magnifying lens.

Cautiously, Loki raises the spyglass to one eye and closes the other.

Thor leans closer. "What do you see?"

"Greyness. A filter of black and white."

How's that–

This thing is supposed to help them find the iceberg which Jörmungandr was trapped in, there must be more to it than that. Loki must have already reached the same conclusion because he peers through the lens again, sweeping where he's pointing it to examine different viewpoints. 

"Grey everywhere. Except," Loki says, raising a finger somewhere northwards, "in that direction."

"Well then." Thor holds out a hand for a look himself. "We know where we must go."

* * *

They don't return back the way they came, instead they continue following the trail for another day's walk until they reach the main road. It's the quickest way back to civilisation, and from there they are able to hitchhike to the nearest town. It isn't necessary to bring out the spyglass very often, not when they already know the iceberg resides somewhere next to Greenland. Assuming it hasn't moved all that much since Þórólfsson's writings, which, coming to think of it, it might have done. The area the scope shows in colour doesn't seem to signify anything otherwise though.

While they're searching for coaches able to take them to the coast, Thor's phone rings.

"Thor?" Jane asks when he picks it up.

"Jane!"

"I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for days!"

"Oh. I'm sorry. We were out in the mountains. My phone must not have–"

"Yeah, being in the middle of nowhere isn't ideal for signal."

"Apparently not. Is... Is something the matter?"

"No. Not at all, actually. I have news. Good news, even. I hope. But I want to hear your news first. How's your snake?"

"Coming along nicely," Thor replies.

Jane lets out an awkward laugh. "I'm sorry. I don't usually..."

"An apology isn’t needed."

"So – how much closer are you to finding it?"

"What makes you assume I'm closer?"

"Because I know how stubborn and determined you are. And also some friends of mine heard back from the guy at the museum."

"Magnus?"

There's the sound of Jane snapping her fingers. "That's the one."

"Well, we've found something more. Something we think will lead us to where Jörmungandr was kept."

"That sounds _fantastic_ , Thor."

Thor nods, then realises only Loki can see him. "We're making our way north to set sail soon. But how about you? The last time we spoke, you were in the middle of making one of your discoveries."

"That's my piece of good news. Well, one of them. Do you remember me telling you about the planet with the orbit that makes it look as if it’s remote-controlled?"

Vaguely. "Yes."

"Well, we wrapped up the entire project a couple days ago. Made some major advances in our understanding of planetary orbits that could potentially lead to huge breakthroughs in space travel."

"That sounds wonderful, Jane."

"It does. It _is_. But it still feels a little weird. I spent all these months constantly thinking about it and nothing else and I was – I _am_ – so excited for what would come after. But in some ways I don't think I was ready for it to be over, you know?"

"I know exactly what you mean, Jane."

"You do? Oh. Right. Your road trip with Loki. That must be, uh, interesting."

"It's going well. I think."

"Oh? Does that mean he's not punctured you like a voodoo doll yet?"

Thor puts on a show of sounding mournful. "Not even once."

Jane chuckles. "Well. I'm glad."

"You are? You never seemed to like him."

He can practically hear her rolling her eyes over the phone.

"He invaded my planet. With aliens. Other aliens than you Asgardians, I mean. Of course I didn't like that. But he– Well, you know what he did when I still had the Aether in my system. He could've let me die and not bothered risking himself. But he did."

"Don't let him hear you say that.”

"Well unless you have me on loudspeaker that's not an issue."

"You mean I can turn off the loudspeaker?"

"Hm. This is one of those times when I'm not a hundred percent sure if you're kidding or not."

Thor searches the screen for any obvious buttons to make the speaker quieter. The volume buttons? Is that what it means to be on loudspeaker, that the volume is turned up too high? But if he turns those down then he won't be able to hear her so he leaves them as they are.

"I was making a joke," Thor lies. "You said you have more than one piece of good news?"

"I did? Oh! Right. Yes. Of course. I... I was actually thinking of taking a break before my next project starts up in a couple weeks."

"You? Taking a break?"

"Yeah, I've been told it helps with keeping me sane or something. So I started looking into places I could visit. And, well... The North of Iceland is supposed to be one of the best locations for stargazing in the world." 

"Wait," Thor begins. "Do you mean to say that–"

"I thought I'd visit you. We've not seen each other in person for... two years? Either I'm working, or you're..." She leaves the rest of the sentence unfinished. Thor is glad for it. It probably involves the word _wallowing_. It's more than a little humiliating that Jane saw him like that, on the one time that she visited. "I was worried. Before. Then you said you didn't want me to come visit you in Norway. But since this isn't Norway, I thought you might..." 

"I'd like that."

"Good." A pause. "Oh. And Thor? Whatever you're doing, keep doing it. You just– You sound happier than I've heard you in years. I hope you don't mind me saying. It's... It's good to hear."

"Thank you, Jane," Thor says. He means it.

"There’s supposed to be a clear view of Neptune over the next few days."

"Is that... Is that the furthest planet in your solar system?"

"It's the furthest one that's not a dwarf planet," Jane says, and there's no condescending tone in her voice, despite how much better she knows the subject than he does.

"It's only taken me almost a decade to remember."

"I don't mind teaching anyone who is willing to learn."

"You make a good teacher then."

"What? Me? No. I get too ahead of myself when I'm excited. I've been told it makes following what I'm trying to say difficult, which, you know, is probably not a great quality to have for a teacher."

"The quality of enthusiasm?"

"You're twisting my words. You know what I mean."

A few seconds pass, enough to make Thor feel as if he should say his goodbyes, but it sounds so good to hear Jane so happy, so fulfilled and content. "Where do you want us to meet?"

"Well," Jane says. "It sounds like you'll be needing a boat."

* * *

They're at the north coast of Iceland. facing out to sea. The fog makes it impossible to see far, and the breeze is filled with salt and thick with moisture at the same time, somehow feeling wet despite there being no rain.

Thor nods to the water. "I was advised by someone whose opinion I trust very much not to hire a boat and attempt to captain it."

"Jane?" Loki asks.

"Yes."

"Well... Good."

Loki? Expressing approval? Thor tries not to look too surprised by it. "Good?"

"I would prefer not to have to be faced with the hassle of a boat sinking. Possibly while I also happen to be on board." 

Thor waves a hand. "It's just steering a boat that isn't Asgardian. How hard can it be?" He takes one look at Loki's face. "I wasn't– I wasn't being serious."

"That doesn't mean that there wasn't room for small echoes of doubt. When is Jane meeting us?"

Thor checks the time. "Approximately half an hour ago. And she’ll be bringing a captain of a boat and diver with her too since they’re both travelling from the Reykjavík area."

"Ah."

"I think there was an issue with the snow on the roads, but apparently they should be here any min– Oh! There they are."

Jane is grinning wildly, wrapped up in a large coat, complete with gloves and a scarf. She rushes towards them, leaving the woman she’s with behind her. No, Thor realises, that’s not a woman he doesn’t know – that’s a woman he _recognises_. Anna. The diving instructor who led them around Silfra. Do Jane and her know each other? Thor doesn’t have long to linger on the question; Jane has come to a slightly awkward halt in front of him, as if suddenly ridden with uncertainty. 

Thor had forgotten about Jane's habit of bouncing on the balls of her feet while not feeling at ease until she started doing it.

"It's good to see you," she says. 

"It's even better to see you," Thor replies. 

Jane's grin grows, then she holds out her arms, almost a question at first, before Thor responds by enveloping her in a hug, trying to encapsulate the answer to her question clear: yes, of course. 

Once they let go, she directs her next words at Loki: "Don't worry. I won't slap you this time."

Loki's mouth quirks slightly and that's as close to acceptance as anyone is likely to get. "You disappoint."

"And you, Loki," Jane adds and Loki looks up sharply. "Er – not the disappointing part. I meant it's good to see you too."

Loki looks so temporarily bewildered it would be comical if not for the sad truth of it. 

"Now," Jane says. "The boat's only small. And by small I mean there’s no hull exactly, just a cabin I'm not even sure is capable of fitting all four of us in at the same time.”

Loki studies her. "Thor didn’t, ah, mention that you would be joining us on the journey itself." And yet, despite how the words alone could have sly undertones, he still manages to sound sincerely polite.

"I didn’t know myself I’d be heading out to sea with you until a few hours ago. But you know what? I need to be somewhere that isn't an observatory. So here I am."

"I look forward to having you with us," Thor says. He waves a hand at Anna, who begins making her way over, then turns to Jane. “Is it just a coincidence that you happened to choose the one diver in Iceland we already know?”

"Well,” Jane counters, “you did choose the one person I know in Iceland who happens to have a boat.”

“But how did you–“

“You’ll find out. Probably.” She fiddles with the sleeves of her jumper that surpass the end of her coat. “Also, I’m kind of interested in this cave of yours. An undiscovered crystal cave linked to a creature from mythology? Yes please. Well, maybe not the diving part. I chased storms for a bit, but that’s a different kind of extreme sport. But definitely count me in for the studying and observation parts."

Thor has missed her quiet enthusiasm. "Certainly."

"Right," Jane says. "This would normally be the part where I make all the introductions, wouldn't it?"

* * *

_The Escape_ , the boat is called, and it allows them to set off within the hour.

The water is choppy, and every so often there are these clinking noises that come with the small sheets of ice on the surface of the water being parted by the nose of the boat.

Jane is fascinated by the spyglass they found in the chest. She keeps examining the lens, trying to make sense of how it knows which area to colourise and which to render in greyscale. 

"Enchantment," Thor informs her as an answer.

"Can you elaborate?"

"Certain objects can be infused with magical energy. But in order for the object to gain specific properties, that magical energy has to be woven in a specific way."

"So what about this one? Is it– Is it some sort of tracker? Does it contain something that acts like magnets? How do you make something like it?"

"Well... To be honest with you, Jane, the tradition of making magical artefacts is mostly forgotten. That's why they are so rare. Most of the ones that existed within the Nine Realms could be found within the palace of Asgard, but, well..."

"So Mjölnir was one. And your dad's stick thing was another."

"Gungnir," Thor supplies. "Yes."

"Who made them?"

"Dwarves, mostly. Though this scope was enchanted by a Midgardian, which makes it even rarer as an artefact."

"Wait. You're saying humans used to be capable of enchanting things?"

"Some. And some still will be. It's highly uncommon and the ability only tends to reveal itself if the skill is trained and honed, but yes, the ability is there."

"So only certain humans have it? Is it genetic? Or is it only able to be learned by people who excel in certain types of intelligence?"

"I, ah... You should ask Loki."

"I'm asking you," Jane says gently. 

"Well..." Thor sits opposite her. It's odd how there was a time when the two of them explaining the findings of their worlds and cultures was something so magical, something so intimate that he'd want the excuse to touch her as much as possible. Nothing untoward, just innocent touches; their arms brushing, hands coming into contact, maintaining the maximum amount of eye contact so as not to miss the excitement contained in hers. 

They haven’t had a conversation even remotely similar in years, but it’s her personality Thor finds himself to have missed rather than the touches. It’s good to… It’s good to have this opening with her after how they left things. To talk and exchange information for the sake of it. Maybe they don’t use the same methods of doing it as they used to and most likely never will again, but, Thor finds, it brings him happiness regardless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news! I have finished the next few chapters and have done drafts of the remaining ones after that (according to my drafts there are 4 or 5-ish more chapters to go) so hopefully – and I really hope I don't jinx this – there can be weekly updates so I can finish this fic before the end of the year.


	10. Erratophobia: The Fear of Making Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting on a pretty tight schedule to try to get this fic complete by the end of the year so some chapters from here on may not be able to be beta read when I first add the update (including this one) so those mistakes will be on me. Anyway, thanks to [Auriferous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auriferous/profile) for all your beta services so far! (Also I'm sorry if there is bad sciencing – I tried my best)

This is another thing that Loki almost suits, Thor thinks. The blue-green of the ocean, the wind in his hair, pacing the deck as they sail. Not that there is much deck to pace, but Loki manages it anyway.

"Thor?" a voice calls from within the cabin. Not Jane's voice; it's Anna's. "A word? And bring your brother."

* * *

"Well," Anna says after there’s an uncomfortable moment too long of waiting, "I see why you neglected to mention your hunt for a sea monster."

Loki grimaces. "It would have the unfortunate side effect of making the two of us appear..."

"Unhinged?" Anna supplies. "As if you've deluded yourselves into believing some fantasy-adventure novel has come true?"

"I was going to go with as if we had lost our sanity, but, yes, unhinged also works."

"Then I'm glad the two of us are on the same page," Anna says and both her and Loki turn to Thor with eerie synchronicity.

Oh no. Not a team-up. Thor isn’t sure he could handle a team-up. "I’m not _that_ oblivious. It’s not as if I’m not aware why it would make us look as if we're not in our right minds. There's no need to look at me like _that_."

"It's good to see that you do have some self-awareness, brother," Loki comments, somehow managing to toe the line between snide and proud simultaneously. Thor flicks his eyes to Anna. "I take it that Jane has informed you what’s going on?"

Anna confirms it with a nod. "It... took some convincing. I'm still not sure you'll actually find anything. Given the artefacts you've located already, I'm sure you’re on the trail of _something_ , but Jörmungandr? I don’t know. I don't believe in legends. I'm not sure what it says about me that I'm standing in front of two Norse deities as I say that, but it's true. I don’t believe in legends, I just believe that most stories come from somewhere, even if they become distorted and exaggerated over time. Who knows. Maybe there is a species of large snake or eel around Lagarfljót and that’s where the legend originates from."

So she’s willing to contemplate that if they’re not tracking down Jörmungandr, they could at least be tracking something worth finding. Good. Convenient, given it’s her boat and equipment they’re using.

Thor leans forward. "So you'll help us find it then?"

She regards him coolly. "I have conditions."

Loki starts speaking before Thor has the opportunity to: “In the event of us finding it, what is it that you'd demand? Your chance at fame, your chance to claim any reward, your–"

"Actually," Anna interrupts, "my conditions are that the two of you be my students. Neither of you have enough experience to do this on your own. One of you is senseless enough to be tempted to do this without an experienced diver and the other might be senseless enough to follow, so I'd rather be here than not here. Oh, and yes, I would like to receive credit and payment."

Thor nods. "That sounds reasonable."

"Excellent." Anna smiles, then becomes serious again. "But I need to make one thing very clear before we proceed any further: neither of you should be cave diving."

Thor stares. "Then why are you even here?"

"Because if I wasn't then you'd do it anyway. And if something went wrong then I'd end up hearing about it and I'd know I could've stopped it. It’s my job to keep divers safe. Even if those divers are making terrible decisions."

"You could have just said no."

"The moment I was contacted, without it being anyone’s intention, was the moment that I received an ultimatum. Either I come with you as a paid contractor or I stay at the dive centre and pray nothing terrible happens to either of you because my conscience would declare me as responsible, no matter how indirectly."

Loki tilts his head. "Consciences are inconvenient things, aren't they?"

Thor ignores that, addressing Anna alone. "No one could blame you if anything happened."

"Oh really?” She points at herself. “ _I_ could. And yes, I know how ridiculous that is. I gave you the warnings. I trained you – as beginners, you have to understand – and told you exactly what kind of dives you should and shouldn't be making. If you decided to ignore that advice then that should one hundred percent be on you."

"Then I'm... sorry?"

"No, I don't think you are. Because if you were then you wouldn't still be going ahead with this. But if you insist on finding this cave then on the condition that you obey my every instruction, I'll help you."

Thor casts his gaze downwards. "Then I thank you."

She gives Loki a nod. "I'm glad you called me."

Thor's thoughts come to a sudden halt. Loki had called her? _Her?_ To ask for her assistance? When has Loki _ever_ asked for anyone's assistance in _anything?_ Wait. Does that mean Loki called her before or after Jane did?

But Anna still has more to say. "I'd much rather that if you insist on doing this, you do it with someone who is experienced and qualified and who can minimise any possible danger. But here are the facts: this is a cave none of us have ever been in before. We don't know how big it is. We don't know how hard it is to navigate. And we don't know what we'll find once we're in there. This is not something I'd be happy agreeing to do with most divers who claim to be experienced, let alone divers who have only logged less than a handful of dives." She shakes head and Thor struggles to look her in the eye. "In short, I think you're both idiots. You–" she points to Thor "–for going chasing after a monster in the first place. And you–" she turns to Loki "–for being suckered into helping him for the exact same reasons I am. And another thing… I don't know if you're aware of this but chasing after sea monsters isn't something most people in real life do."

"We're not going to k–"

"Yes, I know. You don't have any plans to kill it. But as divers we should leave the waters as we found them. So what happens if you _do_ find it? You're not going to intentionally kill it. Are you going to rehome it? Hope that some aquarium has a suitable tank for it, which, given how big it’s supposed to be, seems unlikely. What happens if it sees you as a threat and fights back? Are you going to sedate it? Capture it? What would you even use to contain it? Would you kill it to save yourselves if you had to? Or would you leave it where it is and hope no one else tries to hunt it?"

The trace of smugness on Loki's face is not something Thor appreciates.

"I think those are excellent questions," Loki says, giving Thor a pointed look. "Some of which I have already asked my brother. Would that he was able to provide more satisfactory answers." Loki catches a glimpse of Thor’s expression. "I promised to help you. This _is_ me helping."

“Anna,” Thor says, with a level tone that only sounds slightly forced, “this is something I would like your input for."

"Then you'll receive it," she confirms. "But for now we are going to focus on the technicalities of diving. How many dives have you logged?"

“Hm... Two?"

" _Two?_ "

"Yes. I think that's right. Two."

"Alright, well, I need to make something very clear. Everything that can be slightly on the terrifying side about diving is usually amplified tenfold when it comes to cave diving. It isn’t something any beginner should step into lightly. In fact, I'd advise against any beginner stepping into it at all. Any issues you have – both with claustrophobia and with being surrounded by too much dark space – are only exacerbated. And that's not even getting started on how cave diving introduces its own risks on top of the individual risks that diving has."

"It does?" The words leave Thor’s mouth before he can process them.

"Yes," Anna says, emphatically enough to make Thor feel foolish. "Very much so. If you want to make an ascent while diving, it’s relatively straight forward. You swim upwards until you reach the surface. If you have dived to certain depths or stayed down there for long enough, you'll have to make decompression stops on your way up. But if you're in the middle of an underwater cave, you can't just decide to ascend. Not when there is a roof above you and you’ve travelled who knows how far through the passages. To make your ascent, you have to either make it out through the other side if there is one or go back all the way you came. And if you suddenly find yourself low on air, that's a major problem."

Thor nods. "So how..."

"If you're cave diving it's standard practice to dive in a style called side-mount, where you dive two tanks, one at either side. If you wear them on your back like you would for any other kind of dive, you risk the top of the tanks – the most vulnerable part of them – colliding with the tops of passages or bits hanging down from them. And not only that, but they'd make it a whole lot more awkward if you're trying to squeeze through a low passage."

"Understood," Thor confirms.

"It's fortunate we have time to kill before we reach the iceberg you're chasing after. This way I can teach and train you along the way. Assess you. And don't think I'm being condescending here. What I mean is that the majority of problems for cave divers are either increased anxiety or a lack of preparation. You both have only barely started diving. Two dives are not anywhere _near_ close enough for it to be safe for you to do dives like this alone. Most people don’t even consider doing a technical diving course until they have somewhere between twenty-five and fifty dives under their belt."

"But you know we can't achieve that amount in the time we have."

"Believe me, I'm aware. Very aware. So my compromise is this: if I can see you're able to keep it together and do this safely, I'll keep you safe while you're in the ice cave."

This is a new one, the idea of a _Midgardian_ trying to keep him safe. "That's very kind of you.”

"No," Anna cuts him off. "I'm not being kind. I'm being serious. Cave diving can be one of the most dangerous recreational sports out there if you don't know what you're doing. I don't care how long you were part of a superhero team for or what species of alien you are – I'm not having anyone's death on my conscience. And the same applies to any other diving-related injuries."

* * *

For the first exercise, Anna has them diving blindfolded. Underwater caves, she informs them, are among the darkest places Midgard has to offer. She says it'll be good practice to be used to not being able to see, to become accustomed to the disorientation of not knowing which way is up.

She has them staying close to the surface, using their hands to follow the pieces of some kind of string she's tied in taut lines between the floating sheets of ice and coral.

Back and forth they go, Loki and Thor's objective being to use the feel of the guideline to lead them in the right direction and disturb it as little as possible, making sure that they don't dislodge or tangle themselves in it as they move. Along the guideline are arrows that remind Thor of large beads, pointing in the direction they came from, ones that allow them to tell where their exit route would be by feel alone.

"You both did well," Anna says once they’ve broken the surface of the water and have started making their way back towards the boat. "I'll have you both attaching and tying the guideline next time."

* * *

Loki seems to avoid Anna less due to her personality and more out of principle. Her affiliation with diving gives her an allowance to tell them what to do and apparently Loki wants to make it very clear that the latter only applies while they're underwater. There's already been a spat over whose turn it is to wash the pots from the evening meal.

"I cooked," Jane says from her cushion on the floor. She doesn’t state that it makes her exempt, but it’s implied. “And I’m feeling kinda seasick.”

Anna brushes stray crumbs from her bed in which she's sat; the cabin is such a size that it is forced to be a bedroom and a living room and a dining room all at once. "I've either been training these two or steering all day. That's more than any of you combined."

Blunt. It does not go down well. Jane starts to withdraw into herself whereas Loki acts as if he hasn't heard.

_Fine_. "Enough, enough." Thor gets to his feet. "I'll do it."

Jane blinks at him. "You will?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I... I don't know. Probably comes with being ex-royalty," she says and catches herself. "I mean– I didn't mean to say ex-royalty. You're still a king. I just... I forget, sometimes."

"If it helps reassure you, so do I, on occasion." Thor starts gathering the plates. "I don't feel like a king."

He feels Jane smile at him. "Maybe that's not a bad thing."

"It can't be a good thing if even I forget, sometimes."

* * *

Anna and Loki are both outside, wrapped in their layers. Thor’s left them sitting at opposite sides of the boat in silence and assumes they'll be content to remain that way.

Thor is assisting Jane in cleaning her equipment, all the scanners and telescopes and various pieces of miscellaneous machinery.

When Jane smiles it's tentative and warm, but the way she holds herself is slightly stiff.

"Jane," Thor begins. They might as well discuss it now, it could be the only moment of privacy they get here. "Why... Why have we barely spoken all these years?"

She looks at him then, right in the eyes, then says in a way that’s both gentle and matter of fact, "Even after we were over our breakup, you pushed me away, Thor."

He did? Thor doesn't remember consciously deciding to do as such. He doesn't even remember doing it, only that Jane visited once and the thought of her seeing him in that state is an ongoing humiliation. 

"It wasn't my intent. I was– I was so wrapped up in grief I couldn't–"

Jane fixes him with a look that hits like she's just thrown him into the icy water underneath the boat. "And I wasn't?"

Thor swallows.

"Fifty percent of the population of the entire planet vanished half a decade ago, Thor,” Jane says. It’s not a snarl but it’s not that far off being one either. “Everyone lost people they knew. People they cared about. _Countless_ people. You weren't the only one going through anything, how could you even think–"

Thor's mouth hangs open. "I–"

"I lost Darcy, Thor. And Erik." Tears form a layer over her eyes, but they do not fall. Thor doesn't know what to do, what to say, he didn't know, he didn’t _know_ , but then he never asked, did he? "I've never had a massive social circle and mine was just– Mine was obliterated, okay? So yeah, maybe I came to you for selfish reasons. I was worried about you but _god_ I needed some company back then. And you just... You weren't there. You didn't want to be there so you just didn't bother. Those hours I spent with you were lonelier than the ones I spent in an observatory that was far too empty without them."

Thor wishes beyond belief that he could have the words, anything other than an _I didn't know, I wasn't capable of confronting any additional grief, I never wanted to make anything worse_.

"I... I am sorry, Jane."

"Darcy and Erik came back. Being able to see them again was one of the best things that's ever happened to me. And I know if it wasn't for you that might not have ever happened. But that doesn't mean I'm giving you a free pass on thinking you were the only one struggling."

_I lost my brother and my entire home planet_ , Thor thinks, but he can't utter those words aloud, like this is some sort of competition for who suffered the most. He bites at the corner of his mouth, testing the words in his thoughts before he next speaks. "Grief has a way of making you feel like you're the only person doing it."

"And sometimes like you're the only person doing it _right_ ," Jane adds. "I, uh, got into some trouble. At Darcy's memorial. We were all taking it in turns to share a memory we had of her, of the kind of person she was. And do you know the only thing people had to say about her?" Her face twists. Thor's never seen her like this, so filled with bitterness. "They said she was funny. And yeah, she was. Of course she was. But she was more than that and _none_ of them saw it. She was gone for good – or so we thought – and all almost everyone there had to say was that she made them laugh from time to time. I just– I lost it. At a mass funeral, I lost it. Because it felt like no one was mourning her right." She breaks off, biting her lip. "Not to say there's ever a way of mourning someone correctly, but it just... It got to me. I don't know, maybe her other memorial was better. More personal. I wouldn't know, it was family only."

"But she was your family."

"Yeah, well.” The words are spoken casually but are betrayed by her breath hitching. "They didn't see it that way."

"When Loki..." Thor trails off before trying again. "When Loki died I felt much the same way. Only I might have actually been the only person to mourn him. Everyone else, they either remembered this tragic fallen prince figure or the time he was half riddled with insanity when he attacked Midgard. None of them regarded him as much of a person, just more of… an event. He was a thing that happened or a thing they witnessed, not a person they knew."

"That must've been... difficult to deal with."

The tension in his shoulders begins to ease. "It was," he says. "It was." His mouth is dry but somehow he doesn’t want it to prevent him from talking. "There were times when I’d hear Midgardians express relief that he'd died – right in front of me, when they knew I'd hear every word, but they didn't stop, I don't even know if it even occurred to them it was my _brother_ they were talking about, that the last remaining member of my family had just died, and some of them didn't even–" Thor cuts himself off. "It's not that I don't blame them for being relieved. They never... They never knew him. Not really. All they knew was the damage he inflicted upon their world. They hadn't known him for centuries like I had. If I felt alone in my grief it's because, in my own way, I was. Even the ones who were the most respectful about Loki's passing – the remaining Asgardians, mostly – did it with solemnness because they were mourning the loss of a princely figure, not an actual person. There was nothing personal about it. It was duty. And there was no one I could talk to share memories of him." Although now he comes to think of it, maybe that’s another reason why he’d been avoiding facing Sif.

"I would have listened, if you’d let me."

Thor nods. “I would have listened to you too if you’d told me how much of a terrible friend I was being.”

“Would you?”

Thor chuckles but there’s nothing humorous about it. “Probably not back then, no.”

* * *

The last to wake, and yet Thor still wakes early enough to see the sunrise, all the pinks and violets of the horizon that sits patiently behind the ocean. 

They're sailing past a cluster of approximately eight islands, each one of them seemingly made entirely out of snow. The edges are huge cliffs of sheer ice, and as they pass they can hear it: the creaking. Some of the ice is loud, some quiet, but it’s never silent for long. 

"That'll be the melt," Anna says. 

Thor startles. "The what?" 

"The melt. You're wondering what the noises are, aren't you?"

"Am I that transparent?”

"The creaks are from the ice. When it starts to melt, the sound comes from cracks forming and eventually large blocks of ice will break off and fall into the ocean."

"But I thought it was cold here."

"Not when it heats up it isn't. It's spring and it's already happening. We're already having to steer clear of large sections of ice in case they fall. Wait until summer and that danger will mount even higher."

"And to think I thought summer was always the safest season."

"Each one brings its own dangers." She reaches for the table and offers a can.

Thor takes it. It's sweet and fizzy and refreshing at the same time. Not as good as beer, though.

"It'll be much better than your usual type of drink, I assure you," she says.

Thor stiffens. How does she–

"I can't let you drink and dive.”

"I wasn't."

"No, I mean even if you were to drink a substantial amount the day beforehand and were completely sober again, I still wouldn't let you dive. You'd be dehydrated. More prone to the bends."

"The bends?"

"Decompression sickness."

"I've never been affected by any mortal disease before. I’ve survived floating through space. If I can do that when no other human could do for as long as I did–"

"Thor," Jane interrupts from around the corner. He wasn’t even aware she was in hearing range, but she’s coming closer now. "It's not the same. How do I... In space, there's next to no pressure. Let's say you're floating in space without an astronaut's suit or an equivalent, your main problem is going to be oxygen deprivation. If you survive that then the next two things that would be fatal to humans would firstly be the cold, and secondly radiation."

"Thank you Jane," Anna says, doing a poor job of masking her exasperation. Not with Jane, Thor realises, but with him. "So all you've established by surviving space is that you can survive being deprived of oxygen for longer – which, admittedly, is a reassuring trait to have if you're diving. Pressure, however... For approximately every ten meters deeper you dive underwater, you have the pressure of another atmosphere acting upon you.”

"One sec, I’ve got the perfect thing to explain this to people not from a scientific background," Jane says before disappearing into the cabin and reemerging with another can of whatever Anna keeps drinking. "Here's the thing, Thor. The more pressure is on you, the more your cells are forced to absorb gas. Nitrogen being the most relevant one to this topic. So the deeper you go and the longer you stay there, the more nitrogen you absorb.” Jane starts violently shaking the can. “Right now, I’m simulating pressure. Pretend you’re the can.” More violent shaking; Thor hopes there’s no double-meaning there. “Now when there’s less pressure, the gasses inside the cells will become... unabsorbed. Watch this." She stands back and breaks open the lid. The bubbles suddenly shoot up, bursting out of the top in a foamy sea of liquid. "See that?"

Thor nods.

Anna steps in. "The sudden change in pressure caused bubbles to form to release the nitrogen. When this happens to divers, it happens in the blood and these bubbles can block blood flow, cause paralysis – especially if they form in the spine – and make joints expand which is what makes the convulsions that the bends is named after."

"That sounds... very painful."

Anna smiles, though there's nothing joyful about it. "I've been reliably informed that it is.”

"So how do I avoid it?"

"Now you're asking the right questions. And the answer is simple: you ascend slowly. Let your body acclimatise. Make your decompression stops and do the full time there."

Thor nods. "I will."

* * *

The following day is the first time they practice doing decompression stops. They start with a dive that isn’t too deep that will require one: twenty-five meters, and Anna makes them use small compass-sized dive computers that are now attached to their wrists to calculate at what depth and how long they will need to make their decompression stop for. 

Her alcohol ban is fine. It’s not even something Thor needs to think about that often. It isn't like he'd been drinking enough since setting foot on Iceland to get a buzz from it, let alone enough to warrant being significantly dehydrated the next day. But Anna insists. She insists upon a lot of things. For instance, before their first deep dive she times them tying knots onboard the boat so that they can repeat the exercise at depth and compare the results. Nitrogen narcosis, Thor learns, is another effect of this nitrogen thing he keeps hearing so much about and is something that slows down reactions and makes decision making more difficult the deeper the diver descends to.

“This is all very… technical-sounding,” Thor comments.

“If you are to cave dive you need to learn the fundamentals of technical diving. So, yes, I’d expect that most of this will sound very technical.”

The water here is colder than Silfra's, but the life makes up for it. There's not much at first, only the occasional small darting fish hovering by the underskirts of the ice sheets, or the occasional creature with a transparent orb-like body with long strands dangling off it. Thor loves the freedom of it here. The blue goes on for as far as he can see and there's so much of it to explore, so many wonders to see, and all of it is as beautiful as it is unpredictable. 

The gaps between the ice on the surface form skylights, bright white and translucent soft light that filters down from above, and the ice itself is pleasantly opaque, making the undersides of it glisten like pure white crystals. 

The tranquillity of being submerged in water is something Thor's never known elsewhere. Not on Asgard where every glimpse of underwater he got was some form of murky lake, not on Vanaheim where all they had other than lakes were freshwater rivers, not on Alfheim where the seas were too shallow to go this deep, and not on Jotunheim, though he was never able to see its seas for himself, only hear the occasional harrowing tale about the monsters that dwelled beneath the ice. But on Midgard... On Midgard the waters are vast and deep and are every bit as spectacular as the view from Heimdall's observatory was. 

Five meters.

Ten meters.

The pressure causes his dry suit to become uncomfortably tight so he presses the button to release more air into it.

At fifteen meters there's a pod of small whales visible in the far distance; Thor doesn't know what the name of their species is, only that he recognises them from the museum and that they're of a more similar size to dolphins than they are whales. They are white all over with enlarged foreheads, and they play in the water, swimming in circles and making trilling noises to each other.

The creatures must be intelligent; the Allspeak is translating some of the essence of what they are communicating, though nothing close to all of it. Thor grasps the general gist: they're organising the herding of a nearby school of fish.

Under the water, it seems, is the only place where Thor is faster than Loki. It must be in his harder kicks, Thor decides, because Loki keeps losing distance. They wait for him, of course, himself and Anna, but it keeps happening over and over. It would be nice to be able to discern Loki's expression right now, only the mask covers too much. Thor can't tell whether Loki is as delighted by the whales as he himself is – unlikely, but he can hope – or whether Loki is enjoying it here even less than Silfra. At least here there's far more to look at, and although the water isn't as perfectly clear as Silfra, it's still an impressive view.

Twenty-five meters. They’ve reached their limit. Time to go no deeper.

The leaves of the kelp forests below brush their fins, gently swaying in the ocean current, and there are small signs of life within the vegetation, darting minuscule creatures that blend in with the leaves and twigs. 

_Next time_ , Thor reminds himself. Next time they’ll be able to go deeper, though most likely their boat will have taken them long beyond this area.

A glance at his wrist: another check of his dive computer. They’ve set themselves another ten minutes down here, followed by a four-minute stop at fifteen meters deep on their way up. 

Something is thrust into Thor’s face. Oh. Yes. Silly of him to forget – he has some knots to tie.


	11. Pulchritudophobia: The Fear of Beauty

Over the course of the next few days, they develop something that resembles a routine. Jane stargazes late into the night and analyses her findings using equipment Thor doesn't know the purpose of, Anna captains the boat and ensures they're following where the spyglass is directing them, and when she isn’t captaining Loki and Thor receive more training from her. 

On one of those mornings, Thor walks out onto the deck to find Jane and Loki conversing – and Loki being genuinely _civil_ about it, without a trace of scorn. On another morning, Anna has to take them on a longer route to avoid getting too close to some cliffs of ice, and it's there that the equipment Jane monitors alerts them to the presence of things in the water. Not just things, but _large_ things.

Thor initially assumes the things he can see far ahead in the water are floating sheets of grey ice until he sees how they move, how they arch and dip and shoot water out in a spray that reminds him of the geysers they saw on their journey to the Valley of Thieves.

Whales. Two of them – and full-sized ones this time. 

Anna keeps the boat far away enough that they're not in danger of alarming the whales, but it’s close enough that they can witness the creatures in detail.

This, Thor decides, is far _far_ better than the models at the museum. Here he can see how graceful they are, can truly appreciate the enormity of them. 

If they were closer to the creatures Thor imagines the splash of the water as their tails hit the water would be violent, an impact of such force, and their mouths are so large that it would be so easy for them to be swallowed. Only Anna says that whales are peaceful creatures, and despite the power of might of them Thor thinks they could be that too. 

He can’t take his eyes off them; there’s something so beautifully lonely about them that he can’t look away. "Can we dive with them?"

Anna mulls it over. "Not _with_ them. They could easily accidentally render someone unconscious just because of not realising that they're there."

"I'm sensing a 'but' here."

"But,” she concedes, “there is another option. With conditions attached to it. We remain as far away as the boat is from the bowheads."

"Bowheads?"

She squints ahead. "At least that’s what I think these whales are. They’re one of the most common species around this area at this time of year. And if the bowheads start showing signs of distress then we leave immediately. Understood?"

"Understood."

* * *

Under the surface of the waves the creatures are even more spectacular. The entire scope of their bodies is visible, a full demonstration of how they move through the water, the gentle up and down motion of their tails that's so slow and languid and yet contains so much strength. Their mouths, Thor notes, are probably what gives them their name; they are angled distinctively in a similar manner to that of the body of a bow, only they are dark grey with a white marking covering where their chins would be.

The creatures aren't beautiful in the sense that many other animals are. There are no pleasing patterns on the surface of them, no vivid colours, no soft furs, no large round eyes, just the elegance and simplicity of their forms and for once Thor feels very small.

Before the dive is even over, Thor decides that it's the best one he's had. Maybe the best one he ever _will_ have.

* * *

They're all very quiet that evening. The four of them sit on the deck, gathered around the propane heater and armed against the cold with their layers of fleece and clothing. Even Jane had gotten into the water to see the whales, armed with a spare dry suit and snorkel, and it's all they can do but look excitedly at each other, twinkling eyes filled with unvoiced enthusiasm due to the fear that it'll make the moment cheaper somehow, less real. While Loki doesn't have quite the same twinkle in his eyes, neither does he look as if he is disparaging, and he doesn't offer one voice of complaint.

“How often have you found whales on your trips?” Thor asks Anna.

“I’m... not actually sure,” she answers. “Iceland is one of the best places there is for whale watching, assuming you don’t want to be sleeping on a boat. We’ve got humpbacks, porpoises, minke whales, among others. Some areas are deep enough for us to get sperm whales, usually males due to the cold, and blue whales are known to migrate here to feed during the warmer seasons for the krill, though it’s much rarer to spot them.”

“You must have a lot of stories,” Jane comments.

“More than I’d like, in some cases.”

“You’re not without stories yourself,” Thor points out to Jane.

“Yeah, but my discoveries don’t make as good stories. Not enough action.”

“As I recall,” Loki cuts in, surprising the rest of them, “you _are_ the only Midgardian alive who has set foot on Asgard. And Svartalfheim, for that matter.”

Jane looks mildly stunned, but in the end it’s Anna who presses for more details. Jane might be used to recounting her findings and theories and discoveries; on those things she speaks clearly and concisely. She isn’t a natural embezzler though – if anything she does precisely the opposite and habitually understates her stories – and Thor finds himself recounting his own memory of it in the gaps in which she’s not talking.

“You remember it better than I do,” Jane admits.

“Hardly surprising,” Loki says. “You had the power of the Aether surging through you. Expecting a full recollection, even excluding the parts in which you were no longer conscious, would be overly ambitious.”

“Probably.”

“The Aether was also the Reality Stone,” Thor supplies for Anna’s benefit.

Anna’s mouth falls open as she stares at Jane. “You did _not_ mention the part.”

“What’s a magical stone compared to being on an entirely different world? I wish I–” She breaks off, chancing a look at Thor before resuming. “I just wish I could have seen more of it. It was fascinating. The technology they had… Some of it was like staring into the future but other parts of their culture was like staring into the past. They had quantum field generators used by their medics. Teleportation technology. Weapons and ships far more advanced than ours. And yet they still had metalsmiths having to work forges, horribly dated gender roles, and, sorry Thor, they still hadn’t learned how to season food to make it actually taste of something.”

Thor puts on a front of being offended. “You wound me.”

“So what about you?” Jane’s still talking to Anna. “I’m still willing to bet–”

“How am I supposed to follow up after _that?_ Any story I have isn’t going to compare to setting foot on a whole other planet, let alone surviving an Infinity Stone.”

Jane shifts in her seat despite Anna’s tone sounding good-natured. “Yeah, but I had help for that one. The right connections.” She motions to Thor with a hand. “Contact with someone actually from that world. So if I get a vote, I still want to hear some of your adventures.”

Anna considers this for a moment. “The most extreme stories I have… Well, they’re often not ones with a happy ending.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re not worth telling.”

Anna bites her lip, then nods. “I want to make it clear that I’m not telling you this to shock you. I’m telling you this because I want you to take your lessons seriously. And I’ve got a funny story about a misunderstanding and a baby walrus to lighten things up after. So here goes. It happened around a decade or so ago. Myself and my diving buddy were on a trip to see a wreck. There was another boat out there and we'd noticed two friends go down a few hours beforehand, but they still hadn't come back up. We thought they could be in trouble. So we decided to dive down after them."

Thor puts down his drink – just water, disappointingly bland, though the conversation is not turning out to be. "Did you find them?"

"Finding them wasn't the problem. We found them just fine. They were around fifty meters down, one of them with his gear all messed up. My bet would be on getting it stuck on something inside the wreck. Whatever it was, it meant they were buddy breathing and that they’d spent far longer down there than they were planning for. So they were glad to see us, probably couldn't believe their luck. But they'd been underwater for a long time. I expect they thought they’d die there at one point or another. They were desperate to get back to the surface. We needed – all of us, but especially those two – to stay our time at the decompression stops. One of the divers though... I don't know how much of it was desperation or how much was the narcosis messing with his decision-making skills, but while we were in the process of slowly ascending he took off, started swimming as fast as he could, really tearing his way up. We tried to stop him, we really did, but he fought us off and– Have you ever tried clinging on to someone while you’re underwater? It’s _hard_. And we couldn't hang on without him pulling us up with him. I hated to watch it happen – you have no idea how hard it was to watch him race for the surface like that and not be able to do anything. His friend though... He risked it. Tried to stop him. Went right after him."

Silence follows.

Anna presses her mouth together before continuing. “That was the worst part. His friend took the time to think it through and he knew it would probably kill him but he still decided to do it anyway." Her mouth is set in a grim line. "The one who thought it through died before he reached the surface. The other one died not too long after, before he could make it to a decompression chamber."

Thor doesn’t know what to say. "That must have been... harrowing."

She inclines her head, enough to acknowledge it but not enough to be a nod. "Harrowing is one word for it."

* * *

Thor steps out onto the deck. Anna and Jane are inside, discussing something to do with whether or not it’s a good idea to continue in the direction they’re heading in due to it getting closer towards a plate boundary.

Loki’s back is to him but when Thor steps closer, he turns around. 

“Loki,” Thor greets. “You seem…” He isn’t certain where he’s going with this. It requires careful treading; if he tells Loki he seems to be adapting well to spending time around other people, no doubt there’s a risk of Loki taking it as a backhanded compliment.

“Is this your way of telling me you are impressed that I have yet to grievously injure any of our Midgardian companions?”

“Something like that.” Thor half-smiles. “And you actually going along with this is, well… I’m glad that you are. Grateful, even. I’d much rather have you with me than you be somewhere else.”

A glimmer of frustration flashes across Loki’s face. “How do you expect me to respond to that?”

“I don’t know. Most people would say they feel the same.” Thor sees the look of panic in Loki’s eyes and quickly elaborates. “But you aren’t most people. So all I ask for is that however you respond, you do it with sincerity.”

Loki’s mouth opens and closes again and he freezes, as if his voice is caught in his throat. “Sometimes,” he finally gets out, “I’m not sure I can.”

“You don’t actually have to say anything.”

“I know that.” He sounds defensive.

“I still remember that conversation we had.”

“Which one?”  
“The one before what was going to be my coronation.”  
“Oh.” 

It is darkly amusing how terrified Loki looks at the prospect of him bringing it up.

“You told me to never doubt that you–”

“Yes, yes, I remember, you don’t have to–”

“I just wanted to say that I am sorry for ever having doubted it.”  
Loki avoids meeting his eyes. “It’s not as if I didn’t ever give you good reason to doubt it. On multiple occasions.”

“Perhaps.” An odd pang resonates in Thor’s insides. “I am sure that I also gave you reasons to doubt–”

“Thor,” Loki cuts him off. “I… I think I might have reached my limit for today.”

“I will say nothing more of it then.”

“But there is one thing you should know.”

Hope starts to surge. “I’m listening.”

“We must be getting closer to the iceberg,” Loki says, and while the previous hope dies a different one rises. “I saw the direction of the colours change again through the spyglass.”

* * *

The iceberg. It has to be this one. They've circled it just to be sure and the lens is definitely exposing this one in colour and no other one.

"We're going to examine it," Anna says levelly. "By which I mean you will remain at the cave entrance and assume it's not safe for you to enter unless I indicate otherwise."

Jane looks up from her equipment. "The iceberg isn't actually that big. There's not much volume to it – it'd be hard to get lost inside it and the ice looks pretty clear so there should be plenty of light."

Anna nods. "I'll bear that in mind. You two though," she says, throwing a helmet each to Loki and Thor, "are still going to have to wait outside the entrance. Wherever that is."

* * *

Thor's first thought when they start to make their descent is _this is what Jane thinks isn't that big?_ How large do icebergs typically get here?

The iceberg must be at least five times as large under the surface of the water as it is above it, and it’s big enough that it gives them trouble trying to find anything that looks either like a cave entrance or one that had been sealed up. Loki is the one who spots it though, pointing at the bottom of a crack that runs down the ice like a bolt of lightning. The cave entrance sits at the base of it, a tunnel that buries deep into the iceberg, and there is no barrier of ice to cover it, nothing to keep Jörmungandr imprisoned inside.

Anna has set up the guideline and has made her way far enough into the passage to be out of sight, so all they have to do is be patient. They’ve already had the discussion with her before going underwater, the one about how long they should wait for her, what they should do if she doesn’t reemerge, the fact that this could take multiple dives depending upon the complexity of the cave system. 

In some ways, Thor thinks it’s a good thing that the cave is already open. Because if it hadn’t been and they’d had to open it themselves, he’d be certain Anna would be facing Jörmungandr alone by insisting on doing it this way. Jörmungandr must have had the opportunity to escape its prison for who knows how long, for however long the ice barring the tunnel remained intact.

Minutes pass. Thor feels nothing. There’s little to do now other than remain hovering in place, one hand on the guideline in case of Anna trying to communicate some sort of emergency. More minutes pass until finally she reemerges again and beckons them to follow her.

Excellent. He wasn’t expecting it to happen so conveniently, to be able to go in after her so soon.

The walls of the entrance passage are so smooth it feels as if they have been polished, and the width is small enough to cause Thor to worry he might hold them up if he struggles to pass through, though in truth the icy walls only brush at either side of his tanks. The tunnel is not long, only lasting for a handful of meters before it gently leans to the left and opens to an interior cavern.

They must be at the heart of the iceberg, the sheer size of this place dictates as such. Not once have they had to use the torches they brought with them; the ice is clear enough that sunlight permeates through the walls and it’s almost as bright in here as it is outside of the cave. The roof is lined with icicles that hang down like an upturned forest, and there are puckers, little pinches in the floor of that make it look as if there are tangles of hundreds and hundreds of threads – either that, or it reminds Thor of flying at a height above land and looking below at the indentations in the ground caused by rivers and streams. _Something_ would have had to cause those lines anyway. If Jörmungandr resided here, could it be that those lines formed as an imprint of its body? Some of the indentations are the width of Thor’s arms, and others are larger, wider than he is, but he has no way of knowing for certain what he’s looking at, not without consulting with someone who knows more about these things.

Still, this place would be a very serene prison. Towards the edges of the cavern some of the icicles – are they icicles or ice-coated stalactites or is there no difference between the two? – hang so far down they meet with the ice at the bottom to form columns, and at the centre of the floor the ice starts mixing in with some kind of white stone that sparkles as it catches the light. Crystals. 

Thor doesn't know how long he remains hovering in the water, unable to do much beyond staring. Elegance and ice weren’t two things he thought could go hand in hand. At least, not like this.

* * *

Jane is waiting for them when they're done, perched at the edge of the boat.

"Jörmungandr was gone," Thor tells her before she asks. 

"But it used to be there?"

"Almost definitely," Thor says at the same time Anna says, " _Something_ had been there. The entrance was wide open. Almost anything could have gotten in or out."

Jane looks thoughtful. "I compared my readings from the SAR imaging with the notes we have of the journal quotes and I have a theory about how Jörmungandr got out."

"Already?” Thor says. “That was quick. Your theories tend to be very accurate predictions, most of the time."

"Well there was that one time when I started having a hunch that some storms and Einstein-Rosen bridges were linked..."

"Which turned out to be entirely correct."

"Yes. That time. But I don't think there's anything so complicated about what happened to the iceberg. It's smaller than the journal describes – much smaller. The obvious explanation is it must have started to melt over time until the frozen seal over the entrance was gone." She raises her eyes to Loki. "So there you have it. Global warming released Jörmungandr, not anything caused by your actions."

Clearly, Thor is missing context. Is this what they had been discussing when he happened to pass a glance at them and thought they were conversing civilly? It's an odd feeling for there to be evidence of a conversation happening between them without him there to witness it, as if he is the only thing linking their two universes and that without him both their worlds should not meet. It is not a thought that bodes well, and now it’s taken root it’s a difficult thing to forget: Loki’s world of people he knows is small, his world of acquaintances is even smaller still, and as for the question of whether he has any friends that don’t also happen to be his brother… Perhaps Loki voluntarily conversing with someone he otherwise may have considered beneath him is a good sign.

* * *

Thor isn’t sure what he expected. They have found the cave in the iceberg. Achieved their goal. And yet it has still to reveal anything that can actually be of use. All along this journey there’s been one thing to signpost them to another location, followed by another, then another, then another. Only now they’ve found where they’re supposed to be, there’s nothing to signpost them to where they should go next. Did they miss something? Was there something they overlooked? Surely they can’t have come all this way only for it to lead to a dead end. Thor voices as much as they’re eating – it’s Loki’s turn to cook and the word _abomination_ has been playfully thrown around – and it’s decided between them that they’ll have to have another look.

* * *

Another dive and this time Anna gives them the task of setting up the guideline themselves, though Thor isn’t certain what the purpose of it is now that they have found the only cave they need to explore. The only other thing that changes is that they discover a large pocket of air above the water inside the iceberg; they weren’t initially aware of it because they had no cause to swim towards the very top of the inner cavern, not until they noticed that in certain areas the icicles must have been attached to something above the water. Once they breach the surface, looking down is like looking into a pond and it’s surreal to think that the makeup of the iceberg has somehow allowed for what’s essentially an underwater lake and that if they were to remove their mouthpieces they’d be able to breathe actual air while being so deep underwater.

* * *

On the third dive, Anna discovers an object at the bottom of one of the stalagmites. It’s short and spiked, curved like a talon, and is a few inches in length, translucent white. Not ice – it’s obvious by just looking at it, though it manages to camouflage with it well.

And now Anna has pointed them out, they’ve started to see them everywhere, whatever they are, glistening as they catch the light. 

The things they thought crystals were not crystals at all, they’re not even attached to the ice.

There’s another one of the spikes around the rim of exit passage – they have found their trail. 

* * *

They’ve prepared to dive deeper in search of following the trail of spikes. A maximum of forty meters, with two decompression stops. 

They make their way down slowly. The water goes from having the illusion of being illuminated by the ice to a deep blue, until it becomes dark enough to justify using their torches.

Trying to find where the trail resumes from the point at which it leaves the iceberg to the seafloor proves challenging. The seafloor is coated in sand, and everything from rocks and coral and shells is sprinkled across it. In the end, it’s Loki who manages to find another one of the spikes, using a technique that involves sending his illusion of light like a gust of wind across the surface of the sand in order to determine which objects reflect back light.

Thor pats Loki’s arm as a token of thanks, then they begin searching for the next finding. It doesn’t prove too difficult, only a meter or two away, then they have a path to follow.

Thirty-two meters deep. They can’t afford to go much deeper, not without having to make another dive.

They swim past a ridge in one of the cliffs and come to a sudden stop.

It’s as if the seafloor beneath them has been shorn in two, a huge trench in the ground that goes deeper than they can possibly see. The plate boundary. The one that… What was it they’d been told? The gap between the Eurasian plate and the North American plate? Possibly. He can’t be certain. Either way, even by just looking at it he knows they’ll never reach the bottom of it. It must be hundreds and hundreds of meters deep, deep enough they’d have to be in those underwater Midgardian ships, the ones that are sealed tight from all sides.

Even to a giant serpent the trench would be one with plenty of space, one where it would remain unlikely to be disturbed, one that extends for tens of thousands of miles. It would be the ideal place for Jörmungandr to disappear. Except that Jörmungandr _didn’t_ just disappear, did it? Not if the video footage was actually footage of it. If it didn’t make this place its home, then it must have used it as a part of its route somewhere. The plate boundary does, Thor is almost certain, lead directly through the centre of Iceland.

They swim closer towards the trench. Another spike found. They’re right at the brink now, close enough to see what’s directly below, each ledge and each ridge between them and the unknown that’s concealed by pitch-black darkness. Thor has no fear or darkness, nor any fear of water, but the sight of it makes even him a little uneasy. 

And speaking of ledges, there is one below them that’s only just come into view, and upon it there is something he can’t identify. All he can see of it in the darkness and from this distance is a large mass of an entwined shape that is coiled up, lying perfectly still. Thor’s first thought is Jörmungandr, only the shape looks too deflated for that, lifeless and limp, and besides, Jörmungandr was last sighted so far away it seems unlikely that it would have barely travelled any further than its prison.

Thirty-four meters. They’ll only just be able to reach it. Thor is about to point but Anna’s lights are already set upon it and they have time yet, a further ten minutes until they’ll have to start making their way back up. Anna signs for them to check their pressure readings. Thor feels a small surge of pride, he had just been about to do as such. 102. Good. An adequate amount of air still in his tank, though not so much that they’ll be able to remain for that much longer.

Thor holds out a hand and signs that he wants to go first. If he’s miscalculated and this could actually pose some danger, he will bear the brunt of it, not anybody else. 

His light flickers: one, two.

Thor gives it a shake. He has a backup, but he doesn’t want to have to change his torch, not now.

If the form is some other creature, he has doubts that it’s even alive.

Another flicker: three, four. 

He can see the texture of the form now, the patterns on its surface. Circles. What must be tens and tens of thousands of circles – no, not circles. Scales. 

Five, six.

Thor bashes the side of his torch with his hand and the light steadies.

Closer now.

Seven. 

One more flicker and he’s going to have to–

Eight.

The previous thought is forgotten. 

Forgotten because he can see what it is so clearly now, can see how the form is all one, part of the same thing. Not Jörmungandr, not exactly, though something that once was.

It’s its skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might actually end up being 15 chapters altogether, though I'm not sure yet. Also I've almost finished my playlist for this and will be sharing it in the notes of the last chapter. Still searching for songs that have a more positive brotherly reconciliation vibe and ones that fit the landscape of Iceland so if anyone has suggestions I'll give them a listen.
> 
> I did have to make up the phobia word in this chapter title because the only phobia words related to beauty I could find specifically referred to a fear of beautiful women which wasn't quite what I was going for so you get my probably incorrectly put together made up Latin word instead.


	12. Claustrophobia: The Fear of Confined Spaces

"What the _hell_ is that?"

Thor can't blame Jane for responding in that way; it must be a surprise to find them having returned with something very large and very scaly between them.

"Evidence," Thor answers.

Loki lets his end of the snakeskin fall to the floor of the boat. "Shedded skin."

"We assume it’s from something shedding its skin, anyway,” Anna adds. “Most likely a very large reptilian. See the patterns in the skin? You can see the imprint of each scale and the colour of them, how they're all shades of white or blue."

Jane stares at the sheer size of it for a long moment before finally concluding, "We need a bigger freezer."

Thor blinks at her. "Pardon?" 

"We have to preserve it. If this is proof, it's essential that we preserve it as much as we can, we can't just let it get damaged. Maybe if we head back to the mainland straight away we can find some kind of industrial freezer or a research facility to store it in."

"Then how convenient it is," Loki says, "that we happen to be surrounded by snow and ice." He looks a little taken aback when they all turn to look at him. "What?"

"No, no," Jane says. "That's– That's actually a good idea until we can find something more permanent."

“Don’t forget about these,” Anna says, holding up one of the talon-like objects she must have picked up during the dive. “I need to have a better look at it first though.”

* * *

"I think," Anna says a long time after, late into the hours the evening, "I know what Jörmungandr is."

Loki is the first to speak, putting down his mug of hot chocolate. "How?"

"Because I've figured out what these things are." She rests one of the talon-like objects down on the table. "It's no tooth – there’s no roots or anything else to anchor it in a mouth. It can’t be a claw either – there would be too many of them and there are none of the obvious indicators of claws like quicks or epidermal layers. That leaves me to conclude that it’s a spike of some form that would have been attached to Jörmungandr." She straightens up. "We know from the legend that Jörmungandr is a serpent. Some records say it's the World Snake. But snakes aren’t really known for having spikes."

Loki narrows his eyes. "Then what is?"

"Now you're asking the right questions. The closest obvious comparison I can make is that of crocodiles and their scutes – it means the large shells they have, the ones that form the spikes or nubs they have on their backs. Crocodiles don't lose all of their skin in one go like snakes do, instead they lose their scutes when they outgrow them."

Loki holds one of the objects in his hands. "You believe this to be a scute?"

Anna nods. "I do."

"What about–"

"I'm getting to that. Jörmungandr is no snake. I took a closer look at all the evidence in the skin. Jörmungandr has eyelids, ear holes, a much longer tail in proportion to its body size, and the scales all the way around the body are consistent in pattern rather than differing on the underside."

Thor leans closer. "Then if Jörmungandr isn't a snake, what is it?"

"A legless lizard." She sees the look on their faces. "I know, I know, it sounds pedantic. But it does actually tell us a lot. It tells us that Jörmungandr won't be able to open its jaw as widely as a snake would because they have different bone structures in their jaws. It tells us that it has a sense of sound that doesn’t just rely on feeling vibrations in the ground. And, almost definitely, it needs air."

Thor stares incredulously. “But it’s a creature of the _sea_.”

“Sea-snakes need air. It seems unlikely that this one – well, this legless lizard – will be any different. Apart from probably being able to hold its breath for longer just because of how much bigger it is.”

Thor nods in thought. “That could be useful.”

“It’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”

* * *

They’re all gathered around the table, having an impromptu meeting of sorts. 

"The trail disappeared at the plate boundary,” Thor begins. “I don’t see what else is left to do but follow it."

"That trench also happens to be deeper than anyone can dive,” Anna replies. “And before you ask, no, I don't happen to have a submarine or submersible pod you can use. I don't even know anyone else who has access to either of those."

"Oh." Thor feels his face fall. "But couldn't we apply for some sort of research thing to get one?"

"Thor," Jane says, eyes ridden with pity, "you would be left waiting years.”

"Oh," Thor says again.

Jane doesn't look too deterred though. "I think it would be much more efficient to work out where Jörmungandr went by using other means."

"Other means?"

"Math."

Thor sits up straighter. "You can do that?"

"Not to a precise degree, no, there are far too many variables involved. But give me all the information I need – about the currents, water temperature, the typical behaviours of ocean-dwelling lizards and migration patterns, reports of unusual sightings that could be related – and I'll be able to calculate an area Jörmungandr was likely to head to next."

* * *

The boat remains static while Jane works. Thor doesn't know how she does it, how she takes into account the hundreds and hundreds of variables to be able to calculate what is the route Jörmungandr was most likely to take from here.

Jane takes the care to explain it to him, showing him maps of currents correlated with an oceanic map of these parts, about sources of food that could suit a large sea reptile, about water temperature differences and taking into consideration her estimate of its size. Thirty-five meters – that’s her guess. And even then, she takes care to assert that the skin they have is _very_ elastic and that Jörmungandr’s new skin will be even bigger than the one they have hold of because it must have outgrown it. 

Cross-referencing with eye-witness reports proves to be a major vital component, and Jane’s able to locate and source sightings that Thor could not. None of the sightings lead directly to any one particular area, but they do prove useful in that they’re able to provide points at which they’re fairly certain Jörmungandr would have passed through, and from there Jane is able to make further calculations and enquiries.

In the end, her findings point them towards a fjord. Thor doesn't recognise the name of it, but he does recognise a name that's not too far inland: Silfra.

* * *

It takes days to sail to their next destination, heading south before skirting around the west side of the Icelandic coast. On their journey they pass islands filled with seals, narwhals breaking apart sheets of ice with their tusks, and at one point a large shark that must be at least five meters in length that poses a passing interest in their boat, a shark Thor is then informed is a Greenland shark and that some of them can live to be hundreds of years old. 

They're forced to take a brief stop along the coast to refuel and collect more supplies, and then the journey resumes.

* * *

Hvalfjörður is the fjord Jane has suggested they investigate. It’s an inlet of sea between two of Iceland’s west-side coasts, an area that is surrounded by green hills and volcanic mountains. Underneath the fjord, over a hundred and fifty meters below sea level, a tunnel has been built for vehicles to travel between the capital and other towns. Thor doesn’t know how Midgardians manage to build underwater at such depths – it’s not something Asgard would have known how to do.

They sail prepared. They’ve gained a tranquillizer gun that is on deck at all times as well the largest net they could find. 

“Look at this!” Jane exclaims. 

Thor leaps up and looks at what she’s pointing at, searching for the outline of a serpent on her monitoring screen, for something to indicate that something large is moving through the water, only there’s nothing to see that’s in motion.

“What is it?” Thor asks.

Jane taps at an area on the screen. “Look. There’s lots of water disappearing through these areas. I think there might be a network of caves by the cliffs here. A network too, by the look of it.”

* * *

Thor can do this. Do things the safe way. He knows he can do it, it's just odd to be the one cast to the sidelines, the one doing nothing of significance.

Anna has summoned the rest of her team of divers to examine the cave system; it's not a new discovery, though neither is it a cave system that is fully mapped out – Thor wants to be a part of it but his help has been firmly refused. Now he's stuck in a state of limbo until the caves are declared fit for their use, having nothing to do but worry that something will happen with Jörmungandr and he won't be there to diffuse the situation or help anyone. To make matters worse, during the time they do nothing but wait Jörmungandr could be moving anywhere, making all their efforts fruitless if they can no longer follow its trail. 

Still, at least it gives him more time with Loki. They spend it around the area of Hvalfjörður, sometimes just the two of them, sometimes with Jane too. On one day they hike to the top of a volcano, on another night they go on a walk so Jane can see the stars and the aurora, and on the fourth day they follow a trail to visit what was formerly the highest waterfall in the country. 

The air is cold but the sun is warming, and Thor has two of his most favourite people in the world by his side. 

Jane has seen to the storage of Jörmungandr's skin, keeping it in some local lab and somehow managing to keep the contents of it highly classified. Maybe it's a power that comes with all the prizes Jane's won, all the prestige she has now after all the discoveries she’s made. 

The cottage is recommended to them by Anna, one that's not too far from the bay itself. The only thing odder than seeing Loki and Jane on almost good terms is seeing them encounter each other around the house; Jane waiting for Loki to finish showering, Jane stepping around Loki to add plates to the pile in the sink, both of them having their own spots on the settees and reading together in silence.

That evening, after examining the contents of the fridge, Thor has a suggestion.

Loki is not one to often indulge in the partaking of alcohol, and Jane... Now that Thor comes to think of it, it's not something he can recall her opinion on. After inviting them both though, they've somehow agreed. Maybe it's the cosiness of the fire or the newfound pleasantness of being on land and having their own space, but they've agreed. 

Wonderful. Thor won't have to drink alone.

* * *

“I’ve missed this,” Thor announces.

Loki eyes the mostly empty bottle on the table with something that looks like scorn. “It’s only been a few days.”

_I wasn’t just talking about the mead_ , Thor thinks.

“I’m not having much more,” Jane says. “Hangovers aren’t a thing I miss. Neither are big parties. But a chill evening with a few drinks and a small number of people is nice.”

Loki squints at Jane, as if in complete bewilderment. "Jane," he begins, "how did you _ever_ have an interest in Thor?"

If Thor had consumed any less to drink, this would be very awkward. And judging from the rosiness in Jane's cheeks, she feels the same. 

"You don't have to answer that," Thor informs her, hoping she won’t answer. Maybe the answer would be more awkward to hear than the question. 

"No, no." Jane waves a hand. "It's fine. I, um... I think a lot of people assume for me the attraction was very physical because of Thor's... arms. And chest. And, well, you know." Loki starts looking as if he wishes he’d never asked and Thor can’t blame him – if their positions were reversed, hearing someone describe what they believed to be his brother’s best physical qualities would be… uncomfortable. "But it wasn't like that. Well it was, but only a little. I'd be lying if I said it was never a factor." The words incite a small stab; the nostalgia for the body Thor used to have, the one he will most likely never get back. "But that alone wouldn’t be enough. He listened to me. And he was sweet." 

_I was?_ Thor can’t help but question.

But Jane hasn’t finished. "And he had this way of making me feel comfortable around him, like I could talk about my interests without him getting bored or trying to compete with me."

"Ah, yes, I should have remembered that if I ever wanted Thor to listen to anything I had to say, I should have gotten a woman he’s interested in to say it instead." Loki reigns in his bitterness – though only after he's said it – and looks hastily at Thor. "I _am_ speaking in the past tense, mind you. You... You do actually seem to have improved a great deal on that front."

"And you," Thor says, clinking his glass on Loki's despite Loki not reciprocating the cheer, "seemed to have improved on the front of not letting everything culminate until one of is at risk of dying."

Loki attempts to give him an exasperated look, but his mouth betrays him and he lets out a surprised laugh. 

Jane cocks her head to one side. "I have to admit, I do like you a lot better when it doesn't feel like you might kill me, Loki."

"Oh? You seem remarkably confident about that one."

Jane lets out a small snort. "I am."

Thor wonders why they didn't do this sooner. Everything is easier when they're like this, everything is lighter, less of consequence. There's not this struggle to hold everything back, and they can just float in the same room together, not each one of them too occupied with their own thoughts. The fire warms the air, but the air between them would be warm anyway, Thor can feel the glow of it on his skin and the warmth of the liquor in his throat and _oh_ , he’s missed this. It reminds him of the feasts they’d have after a battle, all the food and mead and talking, only it’s on a much lesser scale.

“Loki,” Thor pretends to scold. “Threatening people won’t make them your friends.”

Some of the warmth leaves Loki’s expression. “I didn’t come here to make friends.”

Thor opens his mouth but Jane gets there before him. “It’s fine, Thor. Really. I’m perfectly content to be Loki’s… not-friend.”

“See, Thor?”

“I wasn’t–” Thor breaks off. “I wasn’t being serious. Though threatening people isn’t likely to make them your friends, I just–”

“It doesn’t matter,” Loki interrupts.

“Doesn’t it?” Thor asks quietly. 

“No.” Loki’s voice is hard and resolute.

“But after this is all over, won’t you… If you’re staying, won’t you need friends?”

“I said,” Loki says, loudly enough to stun Thor into further silence, “it doesn’t matter.”

Jane’s eyes dart between them. “Erm. I think I saw a game we can play in a cupboard somewhere. I’m just… I’m gonna go get it.”

Thor waits until the door has closed behind her before speaking again. “You could do with more company. You could even like it. I don’t understand why you won’t just–”

“Won’t just _what?"_ Loki snaps. “I have it on very good authority that I am uniquely equipped to handle loneliness and even if I wasn’t, I don’t want friends here. This is your planet. These people are all affiliated with you. It’s too late – can’t you see that? Every single person I meet would have heard of you, every single one of them, and you are a hero to them, a god. It was the same on Asgard and it’s the same here – everything has changed but it’s all staying the same. I would have to– I’d have to work so much harder than you if I wanted to settle here, if I wanted them to forget what I did, and even then the comparisons between us would never stop and…” Loki’s eyes fall to the table, and in a voice that tugs at the inside of Thor’s chest, he admits, “I don’t know if I can do it, Thor.”

Thor swallows. He hates what he’s about to say next but he has to say it, has to tell him, even if he’s already said as much before. “I won’t force you to stay here afterwards. Not if it’s not what you want.” He looks at Loki, right in the eyes because Loki has to believe him completely on this, he just has to. “But is it? Is it what you want?”

“I… I don’t know.” Loki takes a long sip of his drink and avoids looking at him. “Maybe.”

Thor forces himself to nod and blinks away the slight blurriness in his vision. “Just… don’t forget about me completely.”

Loki looks at him for a short moment in a way that makes Thor want to throw his arms around him. Then Loki’s mouth quirks upwards and he leans back. “Would that I could,” he jokes.

“Personally, I hope I make it very difficult for you.”

And there, Loki is smiling again and now Thor can too because he’s fixed it, at least a little bit for tonight, even if it means he’ll have to remain true to his word when the time comes.

“There’s no doubt about it, brother.”

Jane is unsuccessful in trying to be subtle – Thor can see her out of the corner of his eye peering in through the glass in the door in order to make sure she isn’t going to walk in during a private moment, so he waves her in.

“Look.” She holds up a box. “I found a poker set.”

In the hours that follow, Thor loses abysmally and it’s an even tie between Loki and Jane until Jane realises that she can rely on trying to calculate the probability of cards appearing far better than anyone can rely on trying to read Loki.

* * *

Two days pass and they receive word from Anna: there is a cave she is comfortable to take them down on the condition that she travels with them and they follow her instructions. Thor agrees.

Before they leave, Loki leans towards his ear to murmur, "You know what this means, don't you?"

"We're much closer. To finding Jörmungandr."

"I know. Though we appear to have taken a very long way around."

"Not an unpleasant journey though, I hope?"

"It's had its moments."

"Moments of unpleasantness or moments that made it worth it?"

"Both," Loki says. "Both."

Thor nods and clears his throat. "You know you don't have to come with me."

Loki fixes him with an exasperated stare. "We've already had this conversation."

"You _are_ welcome to change your mind, though."

Loki shakes his head. "If you think I'll just wait here and just idly pass the time while you dive into the depths of where Jörmungandr could be then you mustn't have learnt anything in all these years that have passed after all."

Thor swallows. "Thank you, brother."

One side of Loki’s mouth raises, but it's not in a wry or self-deprecating fashion; it's what Thor tentatively labels as the gentle fondness he has gotten all these occasional glimpses of ever since they arrived here. 

"I should say goodbye," Thor says.

Loki's face falls. "Goodbye?"

"No, no, I only meant that I should say goodbye to Jane otherwise she’ll wonder where we’ve disappeared to." He pauses, then adds, "I fully intend to return afterwards."

Loki looks at him, searching his face for something, but Thor doesn't know what he finds. "You’d better."

* * *

Puffins sit on the rocks at the shore, heads tilted as if watching them, and there’s a chorus of barks from the grey seals as they pass in the boat.

Descending is easier now. Having to release the pressure from his ears and his buoyancy jacket is something he's grown accustomed to. 

They dive through a patch of kelp, the leaves brushing as they pass and disturb the fish hiding inside. Thor likes the look of some of the fish here, small and almost reptilian with the way their scales form and the way their tails curl into a spiral.

Loki remains by his side, matching his pace, and Anna leads them downwards in a gradual descent; five, ten, twenty meters down. 

The mouth of the cave is formed by a large crack behind a coral table, wide enough to accommodate two people side-by-side.

The guideline is already set up but they have their own reels each to maybe practice with later, and the cave is almost in complete darkness by the time they are barely inside. 

They activate their torches, illuminating the walls, giving the reddish-brown rock the illusion of glowing in the darkness. This must be one of the few caves Thor has encountered that wasn’t formed by water – it was formed by _lava_ , though the nearest volcano has been extinct for longer than Thor has been alive.

The passage gets narrower the further they go. Anna drew a diagram of the tunnels for them before they set out so the direction isn't anything new; their route through the cave was always going to be shaped like a handlebar, it's just a matter of getting used to correlating the space with the visual and following the guideline by hand.

Already this cave has a very different feel to the one in the iceberg. The darkness swallows most of their light and there’s nothing like the delicate icicles that hang like glass here, just the patterns in the rock. 

Still, it's enough to make Thor appreciate all the exercises they did with diving blind and using the guidelines.

Thor’s made sure Loki has ended up next to Anna. He tried to be subtle about it but has a strong suspicion that the only reason he can’t see Loki’s exasperation is because it’s too dark. The end result remains the same though: Loki will neither lag behind nor will have to be the one to go first. It's ideal, even if it does mean that Thor is the last in the line.

Thor finds a part of him likes exploring like this – once he's used to it, that is. The darkness feels like the space between closing his eyes and going to sleep and there's something very peaceful about the stillness of it and how most of his sense of sight and smell is cut off, how it makes him focus on his breathing and his sense of touch and how it feels to move through the water. He must be one of a handful of people who have ever been here and for reasons he can’t fully explain, it makes it feel special somehow.

The corner takes a sharp turn and Thor ends up scraping his hand against a rock while at the same time managing to swim face-first into one of Loki's fins. Right. He's too close. He needs to let him get a little further ahead. So he waits, one hand on the guideline to ensure he won't drift too far.

That's when the rope begins to vibrate. It's so subtle at first that he isn't certain if it's another product of his imagination or if it's real, but then it becomes more persistent. _Loki?_ Is Loki clinging onto the rope in fear and that's why Thor can feel it shaking? Does Anna know, can't she feel it too, can't she do something? Do they need to turn around? Surely not, they must be over halfway through the cave at this point, the quickest way out would be just to carry on.

The sound of grinding makes Thor stop still – it sounds like a powerful vehicle, only it can’t be because the only thing above and around them is rock. The noise reverberates through the walls, and it’s loud, so impossibly loud, and Thor just can’t place where it’s coming from.

Maybe it could be something to do with the tunnel built for vehicles to pass through. He hasn’t seen any sign of it, but the structure of the cave might be providing some kind of echo and that could explain why he can’t quite place it.

Is it a trick of his mind or is there more silt stirring in the water? There was barely enough light to see before, but now what little remains is clouded by sand and dirt stirring in the water. 

There is another loud grind, and Thor can feel the force of it rippling through the water this time. He starts moving forwards, trying to catch up. He needs to get to Loki and Anna, needs to protect them, needs to stop any harm coming to–

Another noise.

Not so much a crash as it is a splash, slowed by the water. Rocks. Rocks falling. 

An earthquake. This must be an earthquake.

Thor carries on, just a bit further, his helmet preventing one of the smaller rocks from colliding with his head.

Where are–

Thor starts pushing at the water with his hands so it's quicker than clinging to the guideline. Loki. Where is Loki? He feels around some more, dread pooling into his stomach, nothing but water filtering past his fingers.

There. He's grabbed a hold of something. Someone. That someone trying to violently shake him off – definitely Loki, not that Thor can see his face. Thor holds out his hand, hoping Loki will see it, see that it's him and they both – no, all three of them – need to be wary. 

The only question remaining is where Anna is. Thor and Loki move back to the wall to continue following the guideline, only it starts feeling slacker and slacker until they reach the end of it and then all it does is hangs loosely from Thor's fingers.

Oh.

When the rocks fell they must have broken the guideline free from wherever it was fixed to. Thor hands the end of it to Loki and hopes he gets the message – retie it. They know how to, they have specifically been taught how to do it, but Thor has a more urgent matter to attend to: finding Anna.

Thor swims, continuing to feel and look for signs of her light as he does so. Nothing. Then his fingers touch something, but it isn't flesh or equipment: it’s a wall, one that extends right through the middle of the passage, cutting it off. Odd. This wasn't what he remembers – the passage should go on for a good while longer before starting to curve around again.

He inspects more closely. It's not just a wall – it's rubble. Rubble that must have fallen when the earthquake happened that extends from the cave floor to ceiling.

Where is Anna? Did she get struck by something as the rocks fell or was she far enough ahead to get to the other side?

The cave tunnel isn't very deep; if she was rendered unconscious on this side of the wall then it won't take much to find her. 

Thor searches below him, feeling for any shapes in the water but continuing to find nothing. She must be on the other side of the wall. But is she injured? Unconscious? Or did she manage to get through without any problems and is wondering what is taking them so long? Is she currently trying to make her way back to them? Thor can't even shout her name to find out and there’s no hope of being able to see through the gaps in the rubble. He can't punch his way through the wall either, not without risking burying her further underneath more rocks.

A different plan then.

Thor backtracks, swimming right into Loki before taking him by the wrist and leading him towards the rubble. Loki is Loki; it doesn't take long for him to realise what the problem is.

A quick of his air first though. It has a bar reading of 245. Thor still has two-thirds of his air left. Good. That’s plenty of time. They'll need it because Thor has a solution to the wall of rubble problem: they can start from the very top, systematically and carefully removing each stone, taking away enough so there's enough space for them to swim through. So long as they're careful about it and don't go upsetting any of the rocks further down, Anna, wherever she is, shouldn't be harmed by it.

Thor starts getting to work. Then it's Loki's turn to tug at his wrists, and he starts pulling him insistently, trying to drag him back out the way they came in. Thor's so taken aback he allows it. He can't see anything that would imply they're in danger anymore – the grinding and movement of rocks have long since stopped – and there's something about the way that Loki pulls that seems less out of urgency and more out of exasperation.

Oh. Right. The cave has an entrance _and_ an exit. They can just swim out of the entrance they came in through and enter the cave again through the other side to reach Anna. Of course. Obviously. No wonder Loki is so exasperated – Thor is truly idiotic at times.

This plan is better. Faster. And it comes with fewer potential risks.

They move quickly and the way out is clear, the light making Thor squint as they emerge from the darkness. Now all they need to do is find the other entrance to the cave, or, preferably, Anna if she has managed to make her way out. 

They swim further down. Still no sign of her. They pass the edge of a rock face and if Thor remembers correctly, the exit should be anywhere around...

There.

Found it.

A perfectly round hole. That makes that, what, the third one they’ve stumbled across now? First Silfra, then Lake Lagarfljót, and now this one. Maybe there’s something about this region that Thor doesn’t understand that makes it so susceptible to forming these types of cave entrances. Or maybe it’s just more common than he thought. This one does look remarkably like the one in Silfra though, with something climbing out like some kind of singular plant root that’s coated in all of these ring-shaped coral structures.

Anna must have them trained well; it feels odd to enter a cave without her. There’s no sign of a guideline – it must have been snapped when the earthquake happened so who knows where it is on this side – so Thor gets to work tying the spare reel he has in place.

Thor checks his air again before they go in too far: 209. Still fine, though they are considerably deeper now so it will be used faster. What was the maximum depth they were supposed to go to again? Forty meters, and on another dive they can try going deeper. That was it. That was what Anna had said.

Another cave, another darkness. The coral structure snakes its way through a gap in the rock below them and once they're inside the cave there's nothing else to make it look any different to the other way they came in, only that it's wider.

They explore it far faster than they otherwise would do, so quickly Thor's fingers are a mess as he tries to find the next place to tie the guideline. He gives it a tug and it holds.

They reach a junction, the passage splitting into two. Did Anna mention there was a junction here when she explained the cave they'd be exploring? Thor doesn't remember it being mentioned, but then again, it wasn't as if he was giving it the most mind he could at the time. He picks the left-most passage; it's the one that seems the most likely to lead in the direction of where they left off. Time to make another guideline placement – if they’ve taken the wrong passage they’ll be able to find their way back out easily, all they need to do is follow the reel, but the loss of time it’d involve is concerning if Anna is in trouble.

Something makes him hesitate. It's easier to swim here, far easier than it should be. It barely takes more than a kick or two to move meters and meters, and the water feels like it's flowing past faster than it did before. The current. That must have something to do with it. They'll just have to go more carefully.

The tunnel has narrowed, both sides of the wall within easy touching distance, and the water is deeper than before too, so deep Thor knows he won’t be able to search it as easily as he could before.

Then there's another junction. 

This is wrong, definitely wrong, Thor could accept forgetting one or two details, but surely he can’t have overlooked there being this many junctions.

He must have led them into the wrong cave.

How woefully characteristically _stupid_ of him.

Now he's gone and wasted even more time and they'll have to go back out the way they came and find the opening to the right cave this time. A mistake like this could cost Anna her life if there’s damage to her equipment and if she ends up dying because Thor was stupid enough to enter the first cave entrance he came across while he was too desperate to think properly–

This isn't like him. He needs to act, not think. Turn around. Go back the way they came.

Thor does exactly that, or rather he _tries_. Only now, trying to swim in the reverse of the direction they entered, it is apparent how strong the current is, and it's definitely resisting him. 

If Thor had ground to stand upon, he could fight it much better. If he had something solid to push against, he could fight it much better. But all he has here is the power of his kicks against the water, enough to get him out, but not enough that it won’t slow him down significantly. It’s tempting to not just hold but use the guideline to drag himself, but it’d only make matters worse if he was to break or dislodge it.

There's a disturbance in the water, something large that's floating past–

Loki!

Thor darts out, grabbing him with one hand, only letting go of the guideline means he has nothing to anchor himself to and the water sweeps the two of them while the passage narrows even further. Thor can’t get a grip on anything with his free hand and the strength of the current grows, like a hurricane at his back, one that keeps slamming them both into the rocks over and over again. The water spins them around and around, keeps trying to wrench them apart. Thor doesn’t let it though; he keeps hold of Loki above all else, but it makes trying to brace a hand against a wall to stop them impossible and he can’t kick back against the current, not when it keeps spinning them around and makes their weight nothing more than feathers caught in a storm.

Above all else, the water is violent. Violent enough that it feels as if it’s going to leave bruises. Violent enough that it feels like solid hands wrenching at his limbs. Thor hasn’t stopped trying to find one of the sides so they can have something to hold on to, something to anchor them because surely it would be better than continuing to be pulled into the unknown. It does not prove possible, not without letting go of Loki, and Thor refuses to let the water separate them. If there is one thing he will not do, one singular thing, it’s that he will not leave Loki in a place like this without someone with him.

There’s no way of telling how far the current has taken them, but eventually it begins to slow as the passage widens and it’s enough that they can hold their ground. A fork in the path: the left path continues to follow the direction of the current, straight ahead leads through a section of hanging stalactites, and the right leads in what feels like the opposite direction of the current.

The right-hand path it is.

The ceiling gradually lowers and they reach a ridge. Abruptly, the rest of the floor disappears as the walls widen to reveal an entirely black space they can’t see the end of, whether it’s above or below, to the left or to the right. 

There is nothing to signify what direction they should be heading in – it is a black pit and his torchlight can’t permeate far enough through the darkness to see anything.

Thor continues in what he hopes is a straight line because he can’t think about what happens if they get lost, what happens if he has to punch them a way out and if even then it’s not enough to get them air in time, what happens if they could have saved Anna if only they’d been paying more attention and hadn’t assumed that a cave having no guideline only meant that the earthquake must have disturbed it. 

There is a tug at Thor’s elbow – not from the current this time, thankfully it has calmed significantly in here – but from Loki.

Loki wants them to descend.

Thor checks their depth. 32 meters. They can afford to go a little deeper, though why would they even want to? Ah. Thor can just about make out the reel Loki is holding up as an explanation. If they can’t find any walls to make placements with the guideline then the chamber floor is the next best thing. Assuming it isn’t too far down, that is. And if they have to double-back, at least they’ll be able to tell where they have already been.

Another check of his air: 107. Two-thirds gone. _Don’t panic, don’t panic, that’ll only make things worse._

They swim at a diagonal, slowly making their way deeper. They pass some kind of enormous bulbous rock so large that it towers above them. The shape of the rock is smooth and rounded, but it’s useful in that it’s coated in coral so Loki is able to make another guideline placement before they continue trying to find an exit.

_Is that...?_ Thor squints ahead. It _is!_ They’ve found the floor. He can see it, spread out below them. 

39 meters. 

They’re going to have to go past 40 meters if they want to make another stop with the guideline. Thor doesn’t know how much longer they’ll need to wait for their decompression stop now, but surely only a few more minutes for a few more meters should work, shouldn’t it?

There. They’ve reached the bottom and it makes a nice change for there to be something that isn’t just an endless black pit beneath them. 

Loki pauses to make the placement, this time around something on the floor that resembles a very wide tree trunk that seems to originate from the large rock in the middle of the chamber, the structure covered in a familiar-looking type of coral.

They continue swimming straight ahead, and it’s then that they encounter another one of the branches, also originating from the centre of the chamber, and it continues to stretch ahead out of sight. 

_… Odd,_ Thor thinks. 

When they find the third one, it’s definitely no coincidence. This time they follow it and it leads in a gentle curve to a wall where it disappears into a passage, so large that it fills the tunnel entirely. Thor wonders if this is the same thing they saw extending out of the cave; it certainly looks similar, but it’d have to be ridiculously long to reach.

They circle, veering around the other side of the central rock now they’ve found one end of the chamber and no viable exits on that side.

Four. Thor checks their depth. 51 meters. The reading makes him falter.

Five, six. Two of them right next to each other, overlapping as they meet.

Seven.

… Eight.


	13. Thanatophobia: The Fear of Dying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the upload date, definitely not festive-feeling happenings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I didn't plan to upload this on Christmas Eve of all days haha but in order to finish before the end of the year, I'll have to. Anyway, like the chapter summary says, this definitely isn't a warm festive one.

Nothing about this is right and yet it feels inevitable, like regardless of what Loki did or didn't do Thor would end up here. The only difference is that now Loki is with him. Is that enough of a difference? Does it even matter? If the Norns have plans for Thor, what plans do they have for him now if Loki was supposed to stay dead all along? Two or possibly three times now, if he is counting. Assuming they have any plans at all. It’s uncertain whether it would be more or less reassuring if there were no plans, if him dying a somewhat more permanent death changed anything; Thor's still in this position and all Loki might have done is condemned himself to die with him.

The loud ins and outs of his breather is all Loki can hear. He has to keep the breaths constant, he knows that. He can't stop breathing or breathe too fast, he has to breathe just right otherwise he'll run out of air and then his body will be stuck here, buried who knows how far underground. If Thor lived and Loki didn't, Thor would look for his body, of course he would, Loki knows that now, even if Thor never had the opportunity to bring him back from Svartalfheim. The only thing that would be worse than swimming through darkness trying to find an escape must be swimming through darkness trying to find a corpse. 

His pressure gauge reads ninety-seven. Loki tries not to look at his air too often – it keeps getting closer and closer towards the ever so helpfully illustrated red zone.

Places like this, Loki decides, would be among the worst places to die.

He hates this. Hates that the only way to get out is to keep exploring. Hates that this is precisely the place he fought so hard to avoid, only to give in to Thor's whims. Did he ever just try plainly asking Thor not to do this? Pointing out all the discrepancies and the futility of Thor's ideas did nothing. Trying to plot against him did nothing. Loki should have tried _harder_ , should have tried anything, even something as banal as asking nicely. 

It's enough to make him wonder whether he should have asked for other things sooner too. To be somewhere that isn't in New Asgard. For Thor to both stop looking at him and start looking at him. Not that _that's_ much of a problem anymore, not after the journey they've had and certainly not in a place so dark they can barely see each other when they’re almost touching as they swim

One of the passages will take them out of here – it _has_ to. Loki can't die here and he can't let Thor die here either, they have to act now and act quickly while they still can, while they still have air in their tanks. Stopping only guarantees that this will end badly. Panicking only increasing the chances of this ending badly, but Loki doesn't know how to do that, how to put a stop to the pressing certainty that after everything this is how it's going to end, all because of making a series and stupid and stupider decisions. 

If he can only attempt to control his lungs and try to think rationally, try to think past the screaming that this could be it, his final moments, once again dying in the presence of Thor, only this time Thor might just end up dying with him too.

It only makes it worse.

How many meters and meters of rock must be above them? How much water?

They're so far gone that if anyone was to notice they were missing, they'd never find them. 

Himself and Thor would become nothing more than a pile of bones, the metal and plastic of their equipment the only thing that would remain. It'd outlive them. 

_Stop thinking, stop thinking, stop thinking_. 

They need to pick somewhere to go. A direction to head in. There are eight branches – one of them filled a passage. One even looked similar to one of the structures they'd seen climbing out of the cave on their way. Maybe the other branches could lead them out of the cave too. Maybe all they need to do is follow them. 

Right.

_Pick a branch. Don't think about whether or not it will result in life and death, just pick one._

Loki chooses the closest. The branch extends through a hole in the ceiling, as if it has broken through it itself, but there is no room for them to follow so they are forced to turn back.

Two branches eliminated.

His air is down to seventy-two.

_Stop thinking_.

The next branch is more promising – its path ventures into a larger area they weren’t aware existed, one around the side of the giant rock at the centre. 

It might be a huge wide-open space. It might be barely anything at all. Their touches barely penetrate through the darkness.

Something catches Loki's eye. A twinkle. A quick flash, like the turning on and off of a light switch, something minuscule. Are his eyes playing tricks on him? He pulls at Thor's arm and points but Thor does not sign anything back; he must have missed it. Assuming it was ever there to begin with.

Time to make another stop with the reel.

Loki freezes.

Bones. 

They litter the ground, lying between here and where they just came from, an entire graveyard of them. Some of them are large too, large enough to be–

Whale bones.

The bones look horribly familiar. The branching structures did too – Silfra? Yes. It matches his memory of it. Could this network of caves extend far enough that it somehow connects to Silfra and that’s how the whale they first saw appeared there?

It might as well be irrelevant. Something resides inside here that hunts whales and deposits their bones on the ground. Jörmungandr. It has to be, this is no natural place for whales to be. Jörmungandr must have been here. Either that or it still is.

As if they weren't already in enough danger without the addition of a giant sea serpent. As if they didn't already have enough to worry about.

It's very difficult to breathe all of a sudden. 

There is another flash, larger this time. Which means the thing has either grown or it’s gotten closer. It must be closer because it’s enough to illuminate a shape making its way towards them.

The shape is serpentine.

Loki finds his fingers are digging into Thor's arm. Thor – and Loki has never been as grateful for the change in Thor as he is now – retreats, pulling Loki along with him and following another one of the branches.

It’s impossible to resist glancing backwards, but the darkness covers everything. Jörmungandr could be almost touching them. Jörmungandr might not have bothered moving at all.

There is another flash. 

Jörmungandr is following them.

It's close enough that Loki can see all of the spikes jutting above its back, so much larger than all the ones they found around the iceberg. Its mouth glows with white light – that must be the origin of the flashes – and its vivid blue eyes are fixated on them, watching with intent. 

Cold. Cunning. It's been waiting. It could have made itself known to them the moment they entered this chamber, only it didn't. It has waited until this moment. But why? To stop them passing it? Is there something it doesn't want them to find?

No time to think. 

The light is gone again and has left them in darkness.

It’s going to find them again and it has the advantage – it knows its way around this place and it is bigger than them, faster than them, able to follow without needing to see. Although… Maybe it _can_ see, maybe it just has better vision in the dark than they do. And the only thing other than the bubbles being emitting each time they breathe that could signify where they are is their torches. The torches that are rendered ineffectual unless they’re shining on a wall or floor a few feet away.

Loki turns his torch off and, after a nudge, Thor does the same.

They wait. 

There’s a rippling motion in the water – Jörmungandr must be on the move. 

Another flash. Jörmungandr is closer still, its mouth open wide, dazzling light shining out of it, fangs longer than Loki’s forearms sending shadows cascading across the chamber.

Loki darts forward, pulling Thor with him under a cloak of darkness he’s summoned while he leaves their illusions in place behind them. Jörmungandr goes right through them, its huge head reared. Going through them doesn't seem to deter it. Once its fangs pass through them it keeps on going, picking up one of the bones – this one still with meat on – in its jaw. Its body coils as it turns, sending out a wave of current, and it twists and twines, making its way to the large boulder where it drops the meat like dropping a gift at the base of a statue of a god.

Loki doesn't dare move. Part of its tail – either its tail or its body, it doesn’t matter which – is inches away, and the creature moves so unpredictably, sliding through the water this way and that. 

All he can do is watch.

Something moves. Not Jörmungandr. Not Loki or Thor either. 

It's the boulder.

The movement is only minor, barely distinguishable, but it's only noticeable now because they're so close. In. Out. A steady rhythm, like a pulse. Except it can’t be a pulse – it's the whole thing that's moving, a gentle barely-there inflation and deflation. 

It's breathing.

The whole thing is _breathing_.

The boulder is not a boulder. 

A large bulbous form at the centre. Eight branches. Eight _legs_ , Loki realises. 

How long has it been like that? The coral has grown over so much that it's entire skin must be covered in it. It must have been a long time. Hundreds of years, at least. But it's still alive, it has to be because it's breathing. Deep even breaths – it must be sleeping. And the coral, not the coral from the main body, the coral attached to the arms – they can't just be rings, can they?

Jörmungandr is not the only other thing down here to be concerned with. Now they have this beast, this thing that must be an octopus of gigantic proportions, tentacles extended through the cave system for what could be miles, an octopus that must be sleeping because it's been so still and _oh by the Norns_ , Loki even tied the guideline to it. And Jörmungandr – what is it that it’s even trying to do by bringing the sleeping creature flesh and bones? Make it an offering? A sacrifice? Is it some sort of ritual to wake it up? Something to ensure that when the monster – the Kraken, Loki recalls, the Midgardians already have a name for a gigantic creature with tentacles that lurks in the waters between Iceland and Norway – does wake, it might spare it?

The argument between himself and Thor from when they first found the engraving on the chest key echo in his mind: _Serpent or servant?_

Thor knew. Somehow, instinctively, Thor knew it was a servant. 

But how’s Loki supposed to communicate all of this to Thor when neither of them can even speak? Does it even make any difference aside from the added danger of if Thor and Jörmungandr cause any kind of disturbance? Even if the Kraken doesn't care to kill them directly, all it needs is to flex its limbs and the entire cave system could tumble around them. Not even Thor, Loki thinks, might be able to punch his way out of that one.

The tap at Loki’s arm almost sends him reeling, that is before he realises that it’s from Thor and Thor turns on his torch to sign a frantic slashing motion across his neck. 

Thor must be completely out of air. 

Loki scrambles for his alternate air source, then hands it to Thor who inserts the breather into his mouth and presses the button to purge the water from it.

_Okay,_ Thor signs.

Okay. What an utterly ridiculous notion, given the current circumstances. 

But at least Thor can breathe. 

Lights off again.

They need to get moving. There has to be a way, there just has to be. Except… There actually _does_ have to be because Jörmungandr is here and didn't Anna say that it needs air, that it can't breathe underwater? Surely if it was that difficult to get between the surface and here then Jörmungandr wouldn't reside here, would it? 

Think. He just needs to _think_. Where next? Jörmungandr needs to be able to get out of here to breathe. Surely a creature of that size leaves a trail. They are, Loki realises with his heart clenching, going to have to turn on their lights and keep them on. 

Click. The switch makes the softest of clicks and yet it sounds like the loudest noise. 

Slowly, calculatingly, Jörmungandr's head turns around.

Loki and Thor freeze. Jörmungandr watches, a pulse of light travelling from its tail to its head. Its body is so long that it is positioned all around the chamber, and the light illuminates it as it flows, disappearing behind rock and stone, emerging on opposite sides, spiralling around in coils. 

For the longest moment, all they do is stare at each other. Then Jörmungandr opens its mouth wide and along with the light shoots out a large shard of ice.

Loki breaks and darts ahead, pulling Thor with him. The ice misses but the sudden movement makes Jörmungandr rear up in the water, drawing itself higher and higher while the remainder of its body coils tighter in circles that are rapidly closing in on them. 

Faster. They need to swim faster.

From the darkness something lurches into view, so fast Loki can't register what it is until he's hit with the physical blow of it. Jörmungandr's tail. The force knocks him to one side and wrenches the breather from his mouth–

Loki can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't breathe. His hands reach out. He can't see far enough. Can't feel anything but the water with his hands. His breather can’t have gotten far, it’s _attached_ to his tank, why can’t he find it?

Oh gods, he's running out of air. It hasn't been long enough yet, it's only been a matter of seconds, but knowing that his supply is gone is inescapable and makes him want it even more, makes him feel like he needs it right this second.

He feels around more and his hand touches something cold and smooth and scaly that starts writhing–

Loki wrenches his hand back. 

Solid hands grab him. Thor has him and he's holding something in his hand. Loki’s breather! Loki inserts it and then he can breathe again. His lungs welcome it. His lungs can't get enough of it.

There are gashes across Thor's face – he must have been cut by the spikes on the creatures back – and there’s the taste of blood in Loki’s mouth from the blow.

There's no time to debate where the next strike is going to come from. Jörmungandr is on the move, trails of its body surrounding them like ribbons that are constantly moving.

They resume their frantic swim to the opposite side of the chamber, following one of the coralised arms – Loki is still having difficulty fully conceiving of them as tentacles – that extends far and then starts making its way up the wall and disappears through a hole that’s large enough for them to swim side by side. It’s also large enough for even Jörmungandr to fit through. Though no wonder they didn't spot this passage earlier; it's nestled up high, in the midsection of the wall, too far for their torchlight to have reached. 

_Please let this be the right way, please let this be the right way._

Loki doesn't know who or what he's praying to, just that this will lead them out of here, that it won't just send them deeper underground. Either it will or it won't and there's no way to know without following it. If it’s the wrong way they’ll either drown or will have to face Jörmungandr again.

If not for Thor, insistent single-minded Thor, Loki isn't certain they’d be making it this far. They're racing through the tunnels despite there being no signs of Jörmungandr pursuing them, long past having given up on using the guideline; neither of them can afford to spend the time doing it with the remaining air being so low.

Is it better to swim slower in hopes of conserving air or swim faster to try to escape quicker? Loki doesn't know, has a feeling he's been told this, but it's so hard to think...

Another turn, then a dead end, then another branching passage. Then–

Is that light? 

Oh, it _is_. 

Loki almost laughs aloud, almost lets out a whoop. 

They have made it out of the cave and into open water. It’s so bright here, so wonderfully blue, and Loki is suddenly filled with affection for everything he didn't appreciate about it sooner: the range of colours in the corals and rocks, the way the reflections of light from the ripples and waves dance

They have made it.

Loki turns to Thor, ready to somehow share his delight, only something stops him. 

Thor's eyes are not smiling. Why isn’t he smiling? Is it the air? Loki peers at his pressure gauge. Thirty-four, but that's not terrible, even if they are definitely supposed to be heading towards the surface by the time it's under fifty and in the red zone. Except that, Loki realises, below fifty is already starting to be a critically low amount of air for one person, let alone two. 

And there are fifty-one meters of water above them.

The surface is right there, in visible sight. The wonderful air above the waves, just waiting for them, so close Loki's lungs feel like they're aching for it, and the sight of it is so tantalising that it makes him want to reach it right this second, but Thor's still gripping him and he's pointing at his wrist.

According to their dive computer, they need to wait here for fifteen minutes. Then wait another ten minutes at thirty meters to decompress, followed by another much shorter stop higher up. 

But it isn't enough. Loki doesn't even know if the remaining air will be enough for one of them, let alone two of them if they have to wait that long.

They're so close to getting out of this alive and now there just has to be this one clause that ruins it. 

It's agony to wait there, hovering in watery space, doing nothing but counting down the seconds on the dive computer and hoping Jörmungandr doesn't suddenly lurch out from the depths.

Loki feels it. Each minute that passes, each _second_. Do they have to do this? It is truly that necessary when they must be on the brink of running out of air entirely? He knows it’s been explained why it’s necessary to decompress but the reasoning seems so distant now, so abstract because air is running out and there is air right up there above the waves. 

He tries to slow his breathing further, just slow ins and outs. Use as little energy as possible to breathe less. Be a dead weight just floating in the water.

It feels like they are there for hours.

The relief that comes when Thor signs to ascend by sticking his thumb up is immeasurable.

Thor touches his wrist and holds that instead. It's nicer than his arm, less domineering.

The temptation to flee, to suddenly dart to the surface and get out of the water as soon as possible, is the hardest part to resist. This could be over in minutes. He could finally be out of the darkness and escape the beasts that lie within it, but if Loki darts, so will Thor. Thor will try to stop him because that's the kind of brother Thor is. 

So they have to bide their time, slow and steady ascending. Start and stop again. 

The air has got even thinner. Loki can feel it, can feel how it's making him dizzier and how much harder it has gotten to think. 

Thor looks increasingly grim.

Thirty meters.

They need to wait here for ten minutes.

Thor makes another sign. Not any of the signs they learned for diving, but a sign where the message is clear regardless.

_You_.

That’s what Thor is signing.

What’s that supposed to mean? What is Thor possibly trying to–

Thor makes another sign, the message clearer this time: _stay here. Wait. Then ascend._

Horror strikes at Loki’s gut, nausea and a jolt of shock all at once. Thor can’t mean to be doing this, he can’t do this to him, he can’t just take off, there are reasons why they have to wait here, doesn’t he know that?

Except that, judging from what Loki can see of Thor’s eyes, he knows. Fully.

_Oh no. Oh no no no no no_. 

Thor wrenches the breather out of his mouth and gives a little nod before looking upwards. 

Loki reaches out, his fingers clawing as he tries to pull him back, pulling at his arms, his legs, his ankles, trying to do anything to stop him, but Thor is too fast and too strong.

Loki can’t watch but he can’t take his eyes away either. The sight of it is paralysing: Thor swimming into the light and lighter blue.

Something is drifting down below where Thor is. His weights. He must have unclipped them to ascend faster. 

And then Loki has nothing to do but wait because if he swims up to catch Thor, what then? If it severely harms him, what hope does he have of saving Thor if Thor needs help when he reaches the surface? 

If Thor reaches the surface.

_Stop it._

Thor chose him. Thor chose him to bear the brunt of the burden of his decision and now Thor could be dead or dying or about to die and Thor's going to force him to live with it. 

Three times. Three times is the number of times Loki's forced Thor into living with it. It's never been this way around. It was never _supposed_ to be this way around. Thor is the hero. Thor is the one who's supposed to live every time, not Loki.

_The legend_ , Loki recalls. Only perhaps Jörmungandr isn't going to be the end of Thor after all, it could only be Thor trying to chase it that could result in... in... 

The thought remains unfinished.

Four more minutes to go.

Has Thor made it to the surface yet? Loki isn't sure whether or not he wants to know – either possibility is fraught with danger. If Thor hasn't then he's at risk of drowning, but if he has then he has surfaced faster which also does not bode well. 

Loki can see Thor's legs, these blue shadows somewhere above him, he just can't tell whether Thor's head is above water yet.

Three minutes. Thor's shadow is moving horizontally rather than vertically – he must have made it to the top. 

Loki scarcely daren't believe it.

Two minutes. Then the air stops coming out. Not all at once, but there are one or two instances where it feels like the tube between his breather and the tank is clogged. It isn't though. It can't be. Air is the problem. 

The gauge is reading almost zero.

One minute left. 

The air stops completely. 

Can less than sixty seconds really make all that difference? 

Loki doesn't care to find out; he knows they certainly can when it comes to being able to breathe and he will not wait here without being able to do that, especially not when Thor is up there somewhere after having surfaced that quickly.

The last remaining fifteen meters pass by in a blur as Loki makes his way upwards, his ears protesting against the pressure, and then his head breaches the surface and he yanks off his mask and regulator to take in a huge lungful of real air.

Thor. He has to find Thor. 

It takes less than a few seconds to locate him; they've surfaced by the side of an icy island and Thor is standing at the shore. It forces Loki to double-check that his eyes aren't deceiving him. Yes, Thor is definitely standing. 

Loki pulls off his fins to make his way over. "Thor?" Loki calls out, rushing towards him. "Are you–"

Thor waves him off. "I'm fine."

"Thor. You surfaced thirty meters in what must have been a matter of minutes. Are you sure you're–"

"Let's just get back to the boat."

The boat. Yes. That’s if they can find it despite it being nowhere in sight.

Loki’s stomach lurches. "... If you're sure," he finally says.

Thor takes one step.

Two.

Three, four.

Thor stops. 

"Thor?" Loki asks, moving to stand by his side. "How do you feel?"

Thor frowns. "I don't know. Oddly... warm?"

Five, six. Slower this time.

“And tingly,” Thor adds belatedly.

Seven. Thor's footing almost slips.

Eight. Loki sees it coming before Thor does.

Nine.

Thor collapses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Surprise giant coralised Kraken lurking underneath Iceland, anyone? I have been planning this since the beginning and have tried to weave in foreshadowing hints where I can, though trying to drop octopus-related clues (and I know the Kraken is usually depicted as a squid, but the descriptions of it leave it open to being a giant octopus too and I just _like_ them, okay?) has been a very erm... unique challenge. As a narrative decision, the reception to it will probably fall on either end of the extreme and I wonder what my own stance will be in a few years looking back on this fic because it's been a tough one and trying to objectively analyse my own hints with the mindset of a blank slate reader is near impossible.


	14. Nosocomephobia: The Fear of Hospitals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of medical stuff here. I'm no medical expert or even very sciency so all of this was based on my own research, which was complicated by most of all the stuff on the bends online being about how it's caused rather than the specifics of the long term impact of a thing that's revealed in this chapter.

Loki only has vague memories of how he got here. The panic of being stranded. The frantic waving to try to get the attention of the passing helicopter. The news that the helicopter had been deployed to search specifically for them. Someone must have contacted the emergency services to inform them that they were missing on a dive, but who? Jane?

They took Thor to the hospital first, Loki is certain of that much. He remembers being with Thor in the helicopter, how they carried Thor away after. How they forced Loki to let them examine him too. Nothing invasive, nothing beneath the surface, nothing to hint at his true race. 

Afterwards, they announced that Thor was stable so they’d be moving him to a facility with a decompression chamber.

Lanspítali Fossvogi National Hospital. They've provided chairs that are stationed right outside of the room that contains the decompression chamber, an enclosed metal cylinder that Thor lies inside of. He must only be taking up a minuscule fraction of the space and the machine is such an inelegant bulky mass that it doesn’t look as if it should contain a person inside, let alone one in Thor’s condition.

Loki doesn’t trust it.

The technology looks outdated; the thing is strangled by huge pipes and pieces of metal that anchor it to the ceiling, making it look as if it is hanged. There is nothing digital on display, nothing computerised. There are multiple gauges outside the cylinder, some protruding at strange angles and others in set rows, but none of them look anywhere close to the level of technology Loki knows Midgard has.

The sterile whiteness of the decompression room makes him feel nauseous.

There are port windows in the chamber, but he can’t see Thor through them. He imagines that Thor must look very small. Thor, who has not to his knowledge woken up. Thor, whose survival the medical specialists think is probable, though will come with complications.

Probable.

Loki doesn't like the uncertainty of it. If they were certain of it, or even they had strong suspicions of his survival, surely they would have just said so, wouldn't they? But probable... Probable leaves too much to chance. Probable is a numbers game. Probable feels like a gamble.

The machine in the decompression chamber makes a loud hiss.

In hindsight, maybe insisting on sitting here rather in the waiting room wasn’t such a good idea. 

One of the doctors tried to talk to him when he first arrived to try to reassure him of the process – hyperbaric oxygen therapy, she called it – and though Loki could hear each individual word, processing the meaning of strings of words proved to be more difficult. It wasn’t that she was using complicated jargon or that she didn’t explain it in a way that was accessible to those who hadn’t studied Midgardian medical science – it was the memory of Thor drifting away and the thought that he could do the same now.

The doctor said something about how the decompression chamber was simulating the same level of pressure that Thor had been at when they'd been diving; they’d been able to inspect the readings on Thor’s dive computer to make their calculations. Then she explained how they’d given Thor special clothing because there’d be pure oxygen in the chamber and they didn’t want anything that could spark, how Thor had a speaker in there to talk to the staff who monitored the equipment if he was to wake up again.

Loki did not miss the last word. Thor had been awake. No matter briefly, he had been awake.

And then there was the discussion about Thor's lungs. They were concerned about something called barotrauma, a condition caused by the lungs being overpressured. 

"There’s a reason why divers need to breathe when they ascend and descend,” she explains. “If they don’t, the lungs can overexpand or collapse due to the changes in pressure. But if the diver is out of air then breathing may no longer be an option.” Loki hates the feeling of her words, the quiet dread they elicit. “If a diver is able to breathe outwards during their ascent, the lungs stand a much better chance of remaining undamaged due to overexpansion." _A_ diver. _The_ lungs, she'd said. Not Thor. Not Thor's lungs. Just objects. "But given how far Thor ascended, we're operating on the assumption that he couldn't have had enough air in his lungs to breathe out for the entire duration of his ascent."

Another hit of nausea.

Loki nods. It seems the appropriate thing to do.

* * *

There is another Midgardian who wants to speak with him. Loki isn't certain what his role is here. A nurse? It doesn't matter.

The man introduces himself and stays in front of him, crouching in this half-squat that is neither standing nor sitting, but is, unfortunately, the exact height he needs to be to maintain direct eye contact.

The man wears a mask of professional concern. Loki can't stand it but he won’t let a Midgardian make him look away, so he stares through him rather than at him instead.

"Is there anyone you can call?" the nurse asks. He keeps his voice soft, level, like he’s approaching a skittish animal. 

"Call?" Loki repeats.

"Uh – yes. You probably don't have a phone on you, but we have phones here you can use."

Oh. Yes. The mobile devices used to remotely communicate across far distances. 

"I don't have any numbers memorized."

The man nods, though his frown has yet to disappear. "You could really do with..."

Loki hates that the sentence is just left hanging like that because what was it going to be? _You could really do with doing something that's actually useful. You could really do with bringing in reinforcements so we are no longer obligated to be around you._

Or is there another reason why the nurse wants him to communicate with people he knows? Does he think there's a real possibility that Thor might actually die? 

Does he know something Loki doesn’t?

"I'm fine," Loki says tightly.

"You just went through what must be an incredibly traumatic–"

"I said I am _fine_."

"I'm not your doctor but–"

"Believe me, I am well aware."

"Speaking as an experienced medical worker, I must advise you to–"

"They already had a look at me. They said there was nothing wrong with me."

"Yes." He looks at him with so much pity that Loki has to push down the urge to summon his knives. "You have no symptoms of decompression sickness or any other physical injuries."

It does not get easier to suppress the urge. "Then what point are you trying to make?"

The man's consummate professionalism is infuriating. "I'm telling you the same piece of advice I would give to anyone in your position. What you experienced isn’t something anyone gets over quickly, psychologically speaking."

Loki points through the glass, to where Thor is lying in the metal chamber. "My brother is still right there."

"I wasn't–” He stares. “I wasn’t referring to your brother when I said this wouldn’t be easy to come to terms with. I was talking about your near-death experience."

Loki bursts into startled laughter, because isn't this just perfect? Isn't it wonderful that he has this interfering Midgardian prodding him about his close encounters with death _now_ , long after Loki has already died and long after he's finally stopped having to measure his own pulse?

* * *

Loki isn't entirely certain at what point the other worker came here, but there's now some kind of assistant or another nurse quietly sitting at the end of the line of chairs. Presumably to keep watch so he doesn't burst into laughter like a madman again. 

Idly, he wonders what will happen if he does. Will they take him away somewhere? Attempt to confine him? Or will they just subject him to more long speeches about how he should be more open?

Loki is already open. He is cut open and everything is contingent upon Thor. 

Thor shouldn't have done it. Thor should have waited. Maybe they both could have made it through the rest of the duration of the decompression stop. 

Loki has to stop this. There wasn't enough air left. He knows that. But he still could have stopped Thor. Maybe he could have switched their tanks somehow and removed his own breather instead, only it didn't occur to him to do so in time.

It occurred to Thor, though. It is yet more evidence of why Thor is a better person than he is.

Loki leans forward on his seat, elbows digging into his knees.

 _Don't die_ , he thinks. Maybe it is a plea, maybe it is a prayer to anyone or anything listening. _Just please. Don't die_.

* * *

“Thor is more stable," the doctor says. "If he was human, he probably would've been dead before he made it to the surface because of lung ruptured. That's how serious this could have been."

"But he’s improved?" Loki asks.

"Yes. His physiology is... Well, put it this way – we haven't dealt with anything like this before. Asgardian, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Well apparently Asgardians are strong. Not only in their muscle mass. The sheer pressure his lungs have withstood..."

"What's going to...?"

"He's going to have a few more hours in the decompression chamber. It could last anywhere between four to ten hours, depending on how he'll take it."

Loki frowns. "So what happens after?"

"Well... Sometimes the bubbles of nitrogen can cause latent problems. He's alive and that's the main thing. But sometimes it can cause other issues. Organ damage. Paralysis."

All because Thor tried to save him. Paralysis. 

The unvoiced question must show because the doctor then adds, "If he were human I'd say the odds of this case would be very much in favour of severe long-term complications. But with him being Asgardian... I think his chances of getting off more lightly are considerably higher." Loki feels hope start to rise before but she speaks again and quashes it. "But I must warn you that when I say the words 'more likely', I mean in comparison to other severe cases of decompression sickness. I have to stress that we've never dealt with a case like Thor's before. This is new territory. All we know is that he shouldn't have survived and yet he has."

"When he got here, were there any signs of… something wrong?"

"His arm. When he woke, he showed signs of having difficulty moving it. This may or may not improve after the treatment – we just don’t know yet. We will be accessing the full extent of the damage after his time in the chamber. Any patient with decompression sickness will need to have checkups afterwards, even more so if it’s a severe case of the bends, but I'd imagine his arm would be at least one of the things that would be the focus of it."

"... Which arm is that?"

"His right."

Loki draws in a sharp breath and has to remind himself that at least Thor is alive, at least this hasn't killed him. Or either of them, in fact.

“We’ll need to do more tests before we can say anything concrete. But, again, all we know is human physiology. His lung tissue appears to have coped remarkably well, from what we can tell from his chest imaging. Much better than a human’s, which implies that his organs are much more able to withstand extreme compression and expansion.”

“That’s a positive sign, then?”

She nods, but there is too much hesitation for it to be reassuring. “With regards to any organ damage, it certainly is. But pulmonary barotrauma is a separate issue to the bends when air embolisms form, they just happen to go hand in hand because they’re both caused by pressure.”

“Air embolisms?”

“The bubbles of gas that form in blood vessels, including arteries, veins, and capillaries. We’re concerned there may be an air embolism in an artery of Thor’s right arm, which is what was causing him to struggle moving it.”

“Is he awake?”

“Right now? No. He’s resting. But he was awake briefly when he first started decompressing, enough that we could tell there was an issue with his arm. But all being well, you should be able to see him in a matter of hours and we can make further assessments. ” 

* * *

Loki doesn't notice how silent it is up until the door bangs as someone opens it.

"Loki?" Jane hurries over to take the seat next to him. "Are you alright? How is he?"

"Thor is... decompressing."

She pulls a face, hesitant to ask. "What have they said?"

"That he should be dead," Loki says and watches the flicker in Jane's eyes. "But they think he will live. They aren't certain what the long term impacts will be." Paralysis. Loki can't bring himself to utter the word out loud, even if paralysis of the arm is a better outcome than he’d hoped for.

"And you?"

Loki looks up. "Me?"

Direct eye contact. She doesn't usually bother with it, not this intently, or at least not with him. "Did you get hurt?"

He is so caught off guard that he answers straight away. "No. Not really." It takes a moment for him to register the fact that he did not summon her. "How did you know we were here?"

"The emergency services returned the call to Anna after they found you, then she called me. I got here as fast as I could."

Anna.

Loki had forgotten.

She must be alive.

"How did Anna get back to you?"

"She says there were all these rocks that fell in the passage between you so she couldn't get to you. One of them trapped her ankle so she's getting that seen to because it's probably broken. Anyway, she told me by the time she managed to free herself, you were both gone and she couldn't find you."

"Oh. But other than the ankle, is she...?"

Jane nods. "A bit shaken, sure, but she’ll be okay. She surfaced to make the calls when she couldn't find you and then she kept going back down. You should've– You should've seen her, she tried, Loki, she really did, with a broken ankle and everything. I wanted to go in the water in case I could spot anything just by snorkelling but she made me stay by the phone.”

Loki notices that in Jane’s desperation to discover whatever she could about Thor as soon as possible, she had chosen the seat directly next to him. As a consequence, she can't move without risking offending him, which, now that she no longer has to fear learning that Thor is dead, means there is room for awkwardness.

Jane pulls a bottle of water out of her bag and takes a sip. Just one – not as if she's thirsty, just as if she's trying to occupy herself with it. "How did... Can I ask how this even happened? Because it must’ve been serious for you both to, well, end up here."

Loki stares downwards. Looks at his fingers for a lack of anything else to focus on. “Thor tried to save me."

"Oh," Jane says quietly. 

"We entered the wrong cave when trying to find Anna. There were these... currents. Strong ones. They led us to Jörmungandr." And to the other thing down there, but Loki doesn't have the energy to speak of that just yet, not when he can barely speak of what happened to Thor. "We got away but Thor ran out of air." Loki can’t stop picturing it, feeling it, the moment he could do nothing but watch as Thor removed the breather from his mouth and raced towards the surface.”

“I’m so sorry.”

"Thor will be in the decompression chamber for hours yet. He won't care whether or not you are sorry and whether or not you waited here during that time."

"Won’t he care? Well _I_ care."

"Ah, so that's what this is, is it? Something to settle your conscience? A bargain with yourself that if you put enough time into suffering through the wait, it might help silence the guilt?"

"I think your guilt is a far bigger problem than mine." Then, almost incredulously, "And you think Thor is the only reason why I'm here?"

Loki stiffens. "We're not friends, Jane Foster. Do not mistake civility for friendship in the future. It will not serve you well."

“Then don’t mistake me caring as me actively trying to be your friend. I'm going to sit over there–" she points to a chair further down the row "–and you can talk to me again when you're not trying to take out whatever you're feeling on someone else."

* * *

The doctor. Loki gets to his feet at once. 

"He's out of the chamber," the doctor informs him. "We need another hour for rest time before you can visit him."

"How is–"

She holds up a hand. "Air embolism in the axillary artery. He hasn’t been able to move his arm since waking.”

His tongue feels heavy. Uncooperative. “At all?”

She nods to confirm it. “This could change within the next few hours or the next few days. Then again, it might not. You should prepare for either possibility.”

He doesn’t know what to say. A thank you in this circumstance seems odd. Like he’d be thanking her for Thor being unable to move his arm. But he owes the workers at the facility, doesn’t he? If not for them, Thor would have received no treatment at all and might not be alive at this second.

Loki ducks his head; not quite a bow, but a token of respect nonetheless. 

She smiles a little. "Someone will be sent to you when your brother is ready for visitors."

* * *

The nurse arrives. Jane gets up too and Loki fears she intends to come in with him, only she puts a hand on his shoulder that should probably feel overly familiar and whispers, "I'll visit after you're done. Take your time."

For that, Loki is grateful. 

* * *

Loki treads carefully. He’d been all set to burst into the room and demand that Thor tells him everything, only it’s so quiet in the ward, and Thor’s lying on his bed looking more exhausted than Loki’s ever seen him.

“Thor,” Loki says softly.

Slowly, Thor’s eyes open.

“Are you–” Loki stops speaking when he gets a better look at all the equipment Thor is attached to, all the wires and things going into his veins. The hospital gown makes him look all the more frail. 

Thor is not supposed to look frail. Thor is… Thor.

Thor manages a small nod. "I'm okay."

"I hope you never plan to do that again."

Thor smiles weakly. "I can't. Even if I wanted to. I can't dive again, the risk of further injury would be too high. So there you have it."

"Not just the diving. You know what I mean."

"I'm not sure I do."

"The heroics. The self-sacrifice. I had to watch as you just..."

Oh.

By the look on Thor's face, he knows too. The weak smile turns sad. "Now you know what it’s like."

"What do you think this is – a lesson just to spite me?"

“No. Of course not. I didn't mean for this to happen. I never... I never wanted to put you through any hardship. Truly."

Loki sinks into the seat by Thor's bedside. "Well, you did." His eyes fall to Thor's arm. "How is your arm?"

"It doesn’t feel like anything."

Loki examines it closer. "What about your movement?"

Thor stares at his arm in obvious strain and nothing happens. “I’m trying to lift it.” He is trying so hard that there is a vein bulging in his temple before he gives in. “Have they told you? They don’t know if I’ll be able to move it again.”

Loki feels the despair in Thor’s voice. "They did mention that, yes. But they’ve never also never had an Asgardian patient."

"That didn't stop me getting the bends."

"It didn't. But while your blood didn't stop you getting it, your rate of healing is different to Midgardians. You Asgardians are faster to heal and can heal from much worse than Midgardians can."

Thor attempts a smile. "I'll try to keep that in mind. I know I should be happy to be alive, but..."

"I consider myself unpleasantly acquainted with the feeling."

“Yes," Thor says carefully, as if hit by a sudden revelation. “I suppose you would."

"The space between what should be and what actually is can be worse than what actually is, sometimes."

Thor looks at him then, truly looks at him as if it is imperative that Loki hears each word. "When you came back I was so happy you were alive, Loki, I truly was. But my default state was so miserable that my version of being happy about something meant that I was still miserable, just less so. And I felt terrible about it. About you. I thought that I was just being selfish."

“Thor, you risked your _life_ just to give me more air. _”_ Loki is still struggling to believe it. 

“That doesn’t mean I’m not selfish. Maybe– Maybe I just couldn’t stand the thought of having to live through you dying again.” His expression becomes more resolute. "It was my turn, anyway."

"Your turn? Your turn to do what?"

"You've already sacrificed yourself for me. You even _died_ for it. My arm... This is nothing compared to that. I'd happily give up the use of my arm if it guaranteed your safety."

All of a sudden, Loki can’t look at him without his vision starting to get blurry.

 _Damn him_.

You made me watch." Loki finally accuses. 

"I won't apologise." That stings. "But that's because I'm not sorry. If I was given the same choice I would make the exact same one again. I am sorry about the danger I put you in though. You made it clear you would follow me, even after I told you that you didn't have to. I should have... I should have been more careful with you."

"That's all you're taking away from this? Sometimes it's almost like you _want_ to be in danger. And other times it's almost like if danger doesn’t find you then you'll seek it out yourself to embrace it with open arms."

"Loki..."

"Tell me I'm wrong."

Thor closes his eyes. "Fine. You're not wrong. But–"

“You were desperate for a distraction and to feel useful. Do you have any _idea_ how close that came to costing you your life?"

“I have… been very unhappy.”

Loki could laugh, either that or weep. "You think I don't understand misery? Did you not see what happened on the Bifrost?”

Thor deflates. “That’s not… quite what I meant. You've never been the one left behind."

"Oh no? Not on every outing involving ourselves and Sif and the Warriors Three? Not when you were to ascend to the throne and all I was to do was give you wise counsel? Not when you and your merry gang were allowed to say goodbye to Mother and I was left to rot in a cell?"

"I’m talking about losing a sibling. The loss of their life. You've never lost a brother – you don't know what it's like."

"Tell me then," Loki spits out. "If I'm so incapable of understanding then prove it to me. Go on."

Thor looks at him as if he's a stranger. "I thought you said that communication was never our family's forte."

"I might not have lived with you dead, but in the past I have lost you in other ways before. To rashness. To pride. To newfound loyalty to Midgardians.” And then, “To disappointment in me.”

Thor closes his eyes. He looks so utterly weary, so worn down and weak, that Loki wonders if he should have spoken, if he shouldn’t just have waited because Thor just almost _died_ and surely there are better times to have this conversation, aren’t there? Then Thor opens his eyes again. “I _am_ proud of you.”

Loki goes very still.

“And,” Thor continues, “if you didn’t know that I would die for you before, I hope you know it now. At least if there’s one good thing we can take out of this, it’s proving that to you. Maybe my words would never be enough. Maybe you’d always need actual proof.”

Loki’s throat is raw. “Well, I’m not going to thank you. I wish you hadn’t.”

“And I wish you hadn’t gotten yourself killed by Thanos, but here we are. I’m not asking you to thank me. Just… Can we please not argue right now?”

Loki feels the fight leave him. “Okay.”

“That easy?”

“That easy.”

* * *

Loki and Jane sit on opposite sofas at the cottage house, neither of them saying a word. Thor is still at the facility, sleeping, and the space feels much larger without his presence. Eerily silent.

"Loki," Jane begins warily, "do you know what you're going to do about Jörmungandr?"

Jörmungandr. Loki had almost forgotten – not about its existence, that would be difficult, but about the fact that something would need to happen. 

"We are _not_ ," Loki emphasises, "going back down there."

"Good. But is it safe to just leave it there?"

No. Not with what it was attempting to awaken. "Safer than us returning there."

She meets his eyes. "What about anyone else?"

“Anyone else? Who else but Thor would be mad enough to seek it out?”

"A team of divers. They were mapping out the cave system before you went down there, remember?”

“Then they should stop.”

“It might not be that easy. People get curious, especially about seeing the projects they’re on through.”

“Then they should be warned about the full extent of what is down there.”

“And if that only makes them want to find out even more?”

“Then they will deserve what fate has in store for them.”

A flash in his mind’s eye: Jörmungandr’s fangs. The ice shooting out of its mouth. Thor almost drowning. Thor lying in hospital, unable to move his arm and that being _lucky_.

“Fine,” Loki amends. “But Jörmungandr needs to be brought out somehow.”

She gives him an odd look. “Can’t the entrances to the cave just be sealed if it’s that dangerous?”

“Jörmungandr isn’t the only thing down there.”

“And this… thing, was it–”

“It’s asleep. For now. But it has a reach that could span miles.” Loki thinks of all the cave entrances they came across, all those perfectly round holes – were they all formed by the Kraken? Its legs might be strong enough to punch through rock, but surely it can’t be responsible for all the circular cave entrances, can it?

Silfra. Close enough to be connected to the cave system without too much work. Lake Lagarfljót. On the far side of the island, far away enough that it’d be highly unlikely. Not unless the Kraken was able to swim and tunnel very far anyway.

Loki still doesn’t like the connection between the places though, the way that Jörmungandr is linked to them both.

“It’s asleep?” Jane asks. “What’s asleep?”

Loki explains. Jane listens with rapt attention.

“That’s incredible,” she says when he’s done. “Not just one undiscovered mythological creature, but two! Two whole new species! But, um, it’s also a bit alarming. I mean, if the giant octopus was to wake up, it could squirrel who knows how far underneath Iceland and bring down tonnes of land above it even without meaning to.”

“I’m not going back there.”

“I’m not saying you should, but we should do _something_ , at least. Land collapse could destroy homes, villages, entire lives. This is serious. We know Jörmungandr definitely exists now. We have two eyewitnesses. Three, if you count Anna."

"She never saw it."

"She was present during the dive. She found the scutes. Having someone with a solid track record who knows the right people does wonders."

Loki readjusts his position, tucking one leg behind the other. "Then what?"

Jane shrugs. "We use what leverage we can. Send in a team of fully qualified professionals to get Jörmungandr out – and what is its species anyway, some kind of water dragon? – which should stop the octopus waking up in the short term. Long term, well, we’re probably gonna need more people higher up to decide what to do about that problem.” 

“And what happens when Jörmungandr is out of the cave system? I don’t imagine it would remain unnoticed in open water for long.”

“I don't know. I'd ask Thor, but he's in no condition to be considering this right now."

"So the task has fallen to me."

“Would you trust anyone else to do it?” An astute point. "How about this? How about you figure out what Thor would want and–"

"Going along with whatever Thor wanted is what got us both almost killed."

For that, he receives a pointed look. "Think how badly it would have gone if you _weren't_ there. Thor would have just run out of air long before he could even think about making it to the surface. But what I was going to say before you interrupted was that if you don't know what to do, think about what outcome Thor would want. You don't have to go for the same outcome, but you can use the thought experiment as, well, an experiment. You don't even need to use his methods. Use your own. And maybe you'll end up figuring out what you want too. With Jörmungandr, I mean."

It might even be good advice, and it’s for that reason that all Loki does is utter, “Hm.”

“You know, there are a lot of people who would be willing to help in whatever way we can. Including me.”

A long moment passes.

“Thank you,” Loki says and his voice is so quiet he isn’t sure if she hears.

* * *

Both Loki and Jane have returned to the facility to visit Thor. It’s still strange to see Thor like this, so tired, so still. Someone must have helped him get dressed and brush his hair – judging from Thor’s stiffness whenever the nurses filter in and out, it must have been one of them.

Loki watches as Thor tries the exercises he’s been taught, ones involving both manually moving his arm and attempting to move it without assistance; the former he can accomplish independently, the latter not so much. 

There’s a knock at the door. Thor stops what he’s doing and hides the remainder of his arm underneath the blanket.

Anna enters, hobbling on a pair of crutches and takes in the sight of the three of them. "Er... Do you want me to wait? I don't want to intrude. I know we don't really know each other very well"

"No, no," Thor insists. "Stay."

She remains right by the door. "Are you sure?"

"You're not intruding at all."

"It's just that it's a small room and you're already crowded and–"

"I want you to be here," Thor interrupts.

She comes in further, but she’s still standing at a distance. "I came here to apologise."

Loki stares at her incredulously. "For what?"

"I should have recognised the signs of an earthquake sooner, I should have kept closer to you, if I’d been able to move that rock sooner then none of this would have happened, we could have just gone back to the boat and everything would have been fine."

“You don’t know that,” Thor says.

Loki straightens, rising from his chair. “If it wasn’t for you, there would have been no helicopter only a matter of minutes after surfacing. If it wasn't for you, Thor might not have been able to make it to a decompression chamber at all."

She shakes her head. "That doesn't negate the fact that if I'd been doing a better job, none of this would have happened."

Jane hesitates before speaking. "Were earthquakes even predicted yesterday? And judging from your descriptions, the one that did hit came on strong and with barely any notice. Anna, you did all the safety procedures you should have done. You just got unlucky."

"They both almost _drowned_ because they were looking for me."

"No," Thor objects. "You told us that if a certain number of minutes passed without being able to find you that we should return to the boat. We didn't. I wasn’t cautious enough and I led us into the wrong cave."

"Thinking it was the right one to get to me."

Thor rolls his eyes; the sight of it is such a rare one that he must be truly exasperated. “Unless you think that drawing a diagram of every single cave we shouldn't enter is sensible then I don't know what to tell you. The point is it that without you doing what you did – and trying to find us with a broken ankle, no less – I probably wouldn't be here. So shut up and let me thank you."

Anna presses her lips together and looks to the floor. "Okay," she says in a very small voice. “But your arm–”

“It might be fine. It might not. But I’m sick of talking about how I am. So, please, tell me all about your leg."


	15. Cherophobia: The Fear of Happiness

"How does your arm feel?" Loki asks, having to raise his voice above the plane engine.

Thor tries to lift his arm and grimaces. "Disobedient."

Maybe a better person would remind Thor what the specialists had told him, that there was a chance it could heal, that Thor's Asgardian physiology gave him an additional advantage. But Loki recalls their words more accurately, words like _we don’t know how much of a chance there is yet_ , and _we have to prepare for an outcome in which this is permanent_.

Thor looks utterly downtrodden – he has done for the past number of days since his release from the treatment facility and there's nothing Loki can say or do to change it, so he has started a habit of opting for honesty. _Yes, your arm might never heal. Yes, you would have a very difficult time if it didn't._ But also: _no, there's nothing to suggest this will be a worst-case scenario. No, if you were never able to move your arm again then it would eventually become normal to you._

Loki doesn't imagine he'll ever get used to seeing Thor's arm like this. Limp. Immobile. Maybe Thor will never wield another weapon again. Then again, maybe that was already a possibility and it's only now that the choice has been taken from him.

"If only our healers still had access to the soul forges, they'd be able to just..." Thor motions with his left hand, waving his fingers to indicate magic. "It would be so easy." Then his frustration grows. "It _should_ be easy."

Something twinges in Loki’s throat, making it difficult to speak. “It should.”

The flight attendant arrives, placing the food they’ve ordered on the trays in front of them: a smoked salmon sandwich for Loki and a cheese panini and yoghurt for Thor.

Thor reaches for the yoghurt pot first. “There won’t be any specialists I’ll be able to see in New Asgard. Not anywhere nearby, anyway.”

“Does that mean you’ll have to travel a long way for each of your appointments?”

“I–” Thor tries to peel off the lid of the yoghurt with one hand. It does not work. “Actually, I was having thoughts about moving.” 

Loki reaches out to steady the pot but Thor refuses him; he’s been talking often about how he might have to get used to functioning like this, only accepting a small amount of assistance from time to time when he can’t avoid it. 

Loki pulls back his hand. “Any idea about where?”

“I’m not sure. I… I actually like Iceland. Despite, well. Despite the arm situation.” Thor moves the pot between his knees to attempt pulling the lid off that way. “What do you think?”

Disaster. Thor’s squeezing too tightly with his knees. A mess of pink yoghurt erupts and when he tries to jerk back to avoid the worst of it the pot falls to the floor.

“I don’t know about Iceland,” Loki lies. “I’ll have to think it over.”

“It’s just… There’s a part of me – a large part – that doesn’t want to go back. To New Asgard, I mean. I still will. There are lots of things that need doing if we’re not staying.”

“We?”

“You _hate_ New Asgard.”

“Am I that transparent?”

“Sometimes, yes. So when we get to New Asgard I’ll need to figure out who takes charge in my absence, what to do about the house, stop procrastinating and just talk to Sif, say my goodbyes to everyone, and then there’s the part where I’ll have to figure out how to legally live in another country. That’ll probably take a long time. But Loki, the thing is, what I meant to ask was… are you going to be coming with me?”  
“I said I’d have to think Iceland over.”

“Okay, but what about something less specific than Iceland? What about Midgard? Do you want to stay in this realm at all? I remember what you said before. About how you think you would have to work harder than me to be accepted here. About how you think the comparisons between us would never stop. That the Midgardians will never forget.”

Loki stills. Then, with deliberate gentleness, he says, "Midgard isn't my home, Thor. It never will be. I'm– I'm not sure if I’ll ever have a home again."

Thor reaches out to seize Loki’s shoulder. "Places don’t provide homes. People do." He releases him and hastily adds, "And there's nothing wrong with wandering until you find a home. Or just wandering.”

Loki ducks his head. “I think I would like to wander for a while.” Though he does not like the thought of leaving Thor alone. “After you are settled in wherever your new home ends up being, that is.”

“Okay.” The word wavers when it meets the air. “Just don’t forget to visit after you go. I mean it.” Thor points a finger. “If you don’t come back every few weeks, I will ask Heimdall to send me directly to wherever you are, no matter how much it will embarrass you.”

Loki feels a tug of warmth that raises the corners of his lips. “I won’t remain away for too long at a time. You have my word.”

* * *

Loki can't stop looking at Thor. He's moving all wrong, slow and dogged, and he keeps clutching at his arm, as if he's trying to protect it and nurse it at the same time. 

"We're almost back now," Loki tells him. Then he stops. His voice had been almost a murmur, as if he was trying to take on the role of trying to console him. Well, maybe he was. Apparently, sometimes Thor needs it.

The door to their house looks foreign now. It's familiar wood, a familiar sight, and yet... 

"I wondered when you'd be back," a voice says from behind them. Valkyrie. She salutes them with one hand when they turn around to face her. “I was just coming back from helping fix up a new feast hall when I spotted you. You got unlucky – I was _this_ close to missing you.”

"That settles it then," Thor announces.

Valkyrie is taken aback. "Settles what?"

"I was thinking of doing this earlier, but I wasn't sure when it'd be the right time."

"You were thinking of doing what earlier?"

Thor doesn’t hesitate. "I don't want to be King of New Asgard."

Thor had implied as much on their flight but it’s another thing to hear the words spoken so decisively. 

“Wait,” Valkyrie says. “You don’t? Are you sure? What’s brought this on?”

“I’m sure. I want what's best for my people and me being the main person responsible for them isn’t what’s best for them. I don't know why I didn't do this sooner. Why I held on to it for so long. But I'm better off without it – the people of Asgard are better off without it."

Valkyrie steps closer. "They're not better off without you if that's what you're implying."

"I'm stepping down as King. But being able to see that now means I'm better than I was before."

She looks him up and down and takes in the sight of his arm. "Alright, so maybe you need a break from ruling right now."

"I'm not talking about a break. I'm talking about something more permanent."

Her eyebrows raise. "But what about–"

"I'll still do what I can for New Asgard, I just won't be its leader."

"Then who will?"

“I’m not sure. Someone who’s less of a mess than I am.”

“A mess? Is this because of whatever happened to your arm?”

“I was a mess before this trip.” Thor’s eyes dart to Loki and back before he takes a breath and resumes speaking. “After some test results came back they told me I was a lot more dehydrated than I should be. That it only made my chances worse when diving. And I think I know why that is.”

Thor has declined to share this particular piece of information with Loki prior to this moment. It stings that he’s so generous with the information when it’s not someone who’s his brother, but Loki has a suspicion what the thing is that unites Thor and Valkyrie in this moment.

Valkyrie meets Thor’s gaze; hers remains steady. A long moment of wordless communication passes, but there’s no pity or judgement there. “You too, huh?”

Thor looks down. Neither confirms nor denies it. Finally, he mumbles, “You’re less of a mess than I am.”

She stares blankly. “Wait. You’re not suggesting that I–”

“You’d be good at it.”

She lets out a singular laugh. "I don't know about _good._ "

"If not good then better than anyone else I know."

She points a thumb at Loki. "Don't you think you're forgetting someone more used to all this royalty stuff?"

"I haven't forgotten Loki at all."

“If it’s of any consequence,” Loki informs her, “I’m not going to be staying here after Thor leaves.”

Valkyrie looks between them both before her eyes settle back on Thor. "Let me make sure I understand: you want out and Loki never wanted in so you're both just... packing your bags and leaving?"

“Yes. No. Yes. We will be. We just… have a lot of things we need to sort out first.”

A furrow appears between her eyebrows. "Okay," she says, uncharacteristically careful. "But I’m not the Grandmaster. I’m not going to force you to stay.”

"This is– Well. This is good."

"But before you get too ahead of yourself, I wasn't done. You can do what you like. But forcing a crown on me? That's another story."

"I won't force it on you, not if you don't want it. And we’ve got time to figure out what’s going to happen with whoever takes my place. But I meant it when I said you’d be good at it. You could always have a trial-run at being the ruler of New Asgard, see how you like it.”

“Maybe. Let me– Let me think it over." She shakes her head, as if either trying to shake herself back into reality. At this moment, reality happens to be her looking at Loki like she's forgotten something. "Oh. Right. You." She beckons him closer and Loki obliges warily. "You kept him alive." She frowns at Thor's arm. "With a mishap or two, but you kept him alive. So good job."

She claps him on the shoulder.

"... Thank you?" Loki manages.

"So," she says. “Where will you be heading off to if you're not staying here?"

“I’m not sure yet,” Loki answers.

“Iceland for me,” Thor says. “Probably.”

“You have unfinished business there? Did you manage to find the serpent?”

“Yes but after this happened–” Thor jerks his head towards his arm “–Loki and Jane started making arrangements. I’m still not entirely certain what those arrangements actually are, they’ve been very insistent on me resting instead of thinking about Jörmungandr.”

Loki tilts his head to one side. “I believe you’re far away enough now that telling you won’t cause you to interfere with our plans.” He motions with a hand towards the door. “But why don’t we go inside first?”

* * *

“Jane has remained behind to work with Anna to put together a team,” Loki informs Thor once they are seated. Valkyrie declined to join them, stating she already had been given a lot to think about. “One with divers – _experienced_ divers, that is. And scientists. I believe Jane mentioned trying to recruit whale conservationists as they’d have the equipment to be able to capture and transport large marine animals. That will be for Jörmungandr. Jörmungandr is the primary concern; without it present in the cave system, it won’t be able to wake the thing that sleeps there. And the thing that sleeps there is surely something to bring about more complications within however many years it takes for it to reawaken, but once its existence is proven, the information can be passed to the relevant authorities.” A pause. “Whoever the relevant authorities might be for such a situation.”

“Okay,” Thor says.

Loki is pleasantly surprised. “Do you mean that?”

“I don’t know what the solution could be to the Kraken problem. It’s not as if it could be brought out of there easily, not without potentially bringing about land collapse. If the caves were to be sealed off then it will starve to death if it can’t break out. It could be killed, though it’s probably the last of its species. Maybe the land above it could be reinforced somehow in case the creature does cause disturbances? But the Kraken has very little to do with us apart from us happening to come across it. So long as we inform whoever it is that we need to, I don't know what else we could do.”

Loki finds himself staring. 

“What?” Thor asks.

“No, it’s just… I wasn’t expecting you to be so reasonable.”

“I like to think I’ve learned something about things that I should and shouldn’t involve myself with.” His face twists. “Some things I’m just not qualified for. Apparently all I’m good for is hitting things. No. Wait. All I _was_ good for was hitting things.

Loki tries not to wince. “Admittedly, your stubbornness can cause… complications. But without it the people of Asgard would not be alive. Without it _I_ wouldn’t be alive. And you were right about it being necessary to find Jörmungandr, though I stand by the notion that we shouldn’t have been the ones to do it.”

“ _Complications?”_ Thor repeats. “That’s putting it gently. My arm is useless because I insisted on going down there.”

“And,” Loki continues, “you have a natural talent for rallying people around you. There would be no team without you having befriended those who you have.”

Thor falls quiet. He looks almost touched. Then he frowns. “How are we affording this team?”

“Jane is going to find us a grant. Though a word of warning – you’ll be taking the brunt of the blame for its death.”

“Its _death?_ I thought we both agreed that we weren’t going to kill it if we didn’t have to?”

“You’ll only be taking the blame for its _apparent_ death.”

Thor squints. “Why are we faking its death?”

“It’ll make transporting Jörmungandr a great deal easier. There'll be no corporations wanting to study it or profiteer from displaying it, no complications from the law, no questions asked about its whereabouts. All we need is evidence. And Jane happened to be very effective in that it’s because of her that we have a very well preserved skin.”

“You mentioned transporting Jörmungandr.”

“Yes. The team will have to be very careful to avoid waking the Kraken; given the scale of the issue, I imagine it will be some time before that problem is solved. But fortunately for our team, it’s likely that all they’ll have to do is wait between the exit we took and Jörmungandr’s route to get air. I doubt they’ll even need to enter the cave system.”

“Good. I wouldn’t… Well, I wouldn’t want anyone else to have to risk going in there. But that doesn’t answer the question of where they’ll be taking it.”

“There will be a boat or ship to transport Jörmungandr from Iceland to the coast of Norway. And from there…”

“Heimdall,” Thor concludes. “I’m assuming it’s too risky to keep Jörmungandr in Midgard’s waters, given what it was attempting to do. But where would Heimdall send it?”

“Think about it,” Loki says. “The creature has a liking of the cold. The ability to shoot out ice.”

Thor’s mouth falls open. “Jotunheim,” he finishes. “You want to send it to the waters underneath the ice.”

“I assume that’s where it came from – the first instances of its mythology and Jotunheim’s invasion of Midgard align. But if it isn’t from there, I’m sure it will appreciate the climate, so long as it finds somewhere with breathing holes.”

“And the Jotuns? Will they not object to a surprise sea monster being sent to their realm? Will it not impact the ecosystem there?”

“If it was left to me, we might not be asking. However, I know you are keen on interplanetary peace, so negotiations may be in order.”

“Oh!” Thor breathes. “You will be brilliant. You're better at this than I am. Diplomacy. Strategy. And if anyone should negotiate with the Jotuns, shouldn't it be–"

"The very same person who tried to eliminate them all with the Bifrost?" Loki finishes. "And the very same person who happened to kill the king of their realm by tricking him into coming to Asgard?"

"I was going to say someone who is, uh..."

Loki waits for Thor to finish. When it's apparent he's not going to, Loki does it for him. "Jotun? They don't know about my heritage. I intend to keep it that way."

"I was going to say someone who has more of a link to them than the entirety of the Asgardian population."

"Yes. You saw how well that served us the last time I had anything to do with Jotunheim."

“Okay. That might be a valid point. But if you don’t want to act as an ambassador, who will go to speak on our behalf?”

“Someone less weary of the cold than I am. I wasn’t certain who would be a good option, but wouldn’t negotiating with another realm be an excellent task for someone interested in the role of leading New Asgard? And Valkyrie was far from Asgard at the time of the Jotun’s defeat by our father, that may help sway things.”

“Yes,” Thor agrees slowly. “Though I’m struggling to imagine what we could have to offer Jotunheim in exchange for harbouring Jörmungandr.” 

"Any Jotun relics we acquired would have been long destroyed after Asgard was. A peace treaty is laughable when we're no threat to them, not with our numbers. Offering our defence in case of outside invasion would likely be considered an insult. But I suspect what Valkyrie might offer them could be something else entirely: trade.”

“Oh, of course! New Asgard has been establishing its own trade, but with Heimdall providing some kind of thoroughfare between the two realms for trading…”

"I'm not saying there should be an agreement where in exchange for harbouring one animal, they get unbridled access to the entirety of the Nine Realms. That would seem like an agreement that far outweighs their favour. But an offer of the beginnings of something could be mutually beneficial, both for the prosperity of New Asgard and for the sanctity of the Nine Realms. Providing, of course, that the Jotuns can be trusted.”

“I see you have your doubts.”

“Naturally.”

Thor is quiet as he mulls it over. “But if we gave Jörmungandr a chance, shouldn't we give the Jotuns a chance too?"

"If by that you mean base your entire plan off an idea that is absolute madness and somehow escape just by the skin of our teeth despite it trying hard to kill us, then–”

“In Jörmungandr’s defence, we must have alarmed it. The last time it was close to people they captured it in the ice for centuries. For us to just show up like that… No wonder it acted the way it did.”

“Yes, well, I’m not feeling particularly sympathetic.”

“I didn’t think you would be.”

“Regardless, the decision won’t be up to me. I hope to be far away from Jotunheim by the time it comes to fruition.”

“I would go with Valkyrie to Jotunheim as this has been entirely my fault, but I doubt that after what happened on my last visit my face would be a welcome one.”

“I’d only recommend going if you intend to fight a war one-handed.”

Thor snorts. “I’ve had worse ideas in the past.”

“In the not so recent past, I’d argue.”

“Yes, _thank you_ , Loki, but after everything that happened I was forced to take notice.” The exasperation leaves him as he lets out a sigh. “I never did get much of an opportunity to use Mjölnir as a tool to build rather than a tool to fight, did I? Well, I _did_ , I just didn’t end up doing so.”

“You’re not approaching the end of your days just yet.”

“No, it’s just… I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do anything like that again. Even build.”

“You can build things even if it’s not in the literal sense. And Thor… You are someone who has a tendency to, ah…”

“Yes?”

“What I mean to say is that the impact you have on others is often a positive one.”

“Thank you. It means a great deal, coming from you. Especially after, well, everything.”

“Our little trip has left me feeling a little more insufferably human.”

Thor laughs then, and it shines through his eyes. “I bet you must _hate_ that.”

Loki nods seriously. “It is very hateful.”

The laughter begins to subside.

“But Thor,” Loki begins, “do you have any idea what you plan on doing once you leave?”

“I was about to ask you the same question. I know I’d like to still be able to help people.” He catches the look on Loki’s face. “It doesn’t have to be in world-saving ways. Or even saving lives, necessarily. I’d just like to be able to do _something_ , at least. I don’t know what I can do if my arm remains useless though.”

“You have plenty of options in either case, I’m sure.”

Thor looks sceptical. “I’m not so certain.”

“I’m hardly the person to turn to for advice on Midgardian volunteering, but there are plenty of roles that could be carried out one-handed if necessary. Or even roles that are primarily focused on speaking and visiting people.”

Thor gives him an odd look. “How is it that you have more knowledge about this than me? I’m the one that’s lived here for five years longer than you.”

“I saw recruitment posters around the hospital. And the rescue helicopter also had volunteers.”

“Oh.”

Loki has to breach the next subject carefully, anything less than care might put Thor off the idea altogether. “Do you think you might just want to… try relaxing a little?”

“I tried relaxing. Years of it, while you were gone. No. I think what I need to do is find something with a good balance between making me feel good, something that genuinely helps, and something that doesn’t involve chasing after things that could kill me.”

“That sounds remarkably sensible.”

“I’ll take that as high praise. And if Jane is staying in Iceland with Anna, it could be nice for us to visit before you leave.” Thor readjusts himself in his chair. “Speaking of you leaving – surely you must have something in mind?”

“For now I would just like to see what else there is, what other options exist.” Loki hesitates. “I– I want you to know that I’m not doing this to run from you, Thor. I’m sure once I do this I’ll be much better suited to being around you again. I just… need time to adapt. To being alive again – to _feeling_ alive again. And Asgard being gone, our parents being gone, and just… everything.”

Thor’s face softens. “I understand.” He smiles encouragingly. “I think you’ll be better for it. You’ve proven yourself able to acquire new friends already recently.”

“I hope you’re right.” There comes a silence. Loki is grateful it is unlike the previous ones that used to haunt this house; this time it happens because of everything already having been said. “And Thor? If there comes a time when you’d like to join me for a short while, I would welcome you. Provided that you won’t be seeking out monsters again this time.”

Thor chuckles, his face splitting into a grin. “I would like that. Where are you thinking of going first?”

“I was thinking somewhere warm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin!
> 
> I've made a playlist for the fic is on Spotify [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6bWMX6AUj5IO56zrUaWpIJ) and I've also made a tumblr post where I ramble about each song choice that has YouTube links each song [here](https://the-ice-sculpture.tumblr.com/post/639035333944705025/adventures-in-not-dying-playlist). I might still tweak the playlist a little, but nothing too major (also, thank you BenevolentCupboardlatch for your suggestions!).
> 
> This has been the hardest fic I've ever written to date (and that's including a 325K word fic), to the extent where I was plagued by doubts about whether or not my writing ability matched the potential of the idea, and I wonder how much my perspective on how this should have been executed will change over time – I'm sure if I reread this in a couple of years it'll be a lot easier to pick bits out and know what I should have done with them. So we have this fic just being hard in general to write, combined with being written in a time when I've been finding concentrating _really_ hard, which cued slow updates pretty much every month but this one and probably lost me a lot of readers (which is understandable, I know I probably would've been lost as a reader). To every person who has commented or expressed appreciation in some other way, you have no idea how much you've helped my motivation. And to every person who has commented or multiple or every single one of the chapters, you guys are saints. Thank you. I feel like I've learned a great deal trying to write this thing and am ultimately glad I went for it (well, you have AuroraWest to thank for that happening so they get an extra special thank you). 
> 
> Heh. I was aiming to finish by the end of the year and have got there with just a few hours to spare (and I am far more satisfied than I should be with a total of 75000 words overall, which wasn't a thing I planned until I started trying to finish this last chapter). Anyway, if you've enjoyed reading this fic I would love to hear from you. 
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is [here](https://the-ice-sculpture.tumblr.com/) if anyone’s interested in a mostly Loki-related blog or wants to contact me there instead of in the comments here.


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